Some Time Ago
by MindSike
Summary: Some time ago, Dethklok wasn't all they were today.With the band of the verge of breaking out, lead guitarist Skwisgaar Skwigelf finds himself being hopelessly drawn towards a young,humble foreigner named Toki.
1. Contradiction

**A/N:**This is my very first fic I have ever written, so why not start with a mutli chapter fic! Go hard or go home, right? _Hopefully_ I won't disappoint. This was inspired by the DSR backstory of Dethklok, where theres glimpses of them just starting out. Feedback is always a bonus & greatly appreciated, enjoy!

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There was time before Dethklok slayed the world. A time before fame, greed, and profit. It was a strange time.

Bodies varying in every color and size swarmed and lined around the entrance of an auditorium at the heart of a downtown city, all of them believing this was going to be their big break. Inside, behind closed doors, rallied a rather spent looking group of young men. The desperation surrounding them was thick, Skwisgaar could smell it seeping out from under the steel framed doorway. It made his stomach churn- or maybe it was him coming down from the night before, finally- he wasn't quite sure. What he was sure about though was that this whole "audition" thing was a waste of time, for he was all this band would ever need.

When Magnus was finally kicked out of the band, after too many countless times of his outbreaks and control issues, it had come as a blessing to not just Skwisgaar but the others as well. Without Magnus around, Skwisgaar could finally take charge the way the gods intended him to, no one would get in his way anymore. He was to become unstoppable...that is until the topic of replacement was brought up by their manager. Skwisgaar usually never even questioned any of the decisions made by Charles, but this one erked him to no end. He had spent the past week or two stewing on the thoughts of another guitarist being in the band again, first angrily- only resorting to get his anger out in other means, such as countless one nighters or a step further on the array of drugs the band already sampled religiously- but these thoughts didn't last long, his confidence entering him like heroin to the blood stream; he relished in the thoughts of proving his power,his dominance on the guitar, slaying any worthless regular jack-off who showed up to audition. He would defeat all of them, he would make sure that this was to be a one guitar band.

These were the thoughts that infected his mind now, as he radiated supremacy. And much like he sensed their humiliating desperation, he was sure they could pick up on him as only thing bringing him out of his power-trip was the repetitive scratching noise of Muderface's pocket knife against a sad-attempt of a cushioned chair. Sitting on the chair was an even more sad-attempt of a man, Murderface's hair bowing out and frizzing in it's usual bobbed sort of way,hunched over,scowling, somewhere on his face was bound to be a patch of stubble he missed while shaving. Even the chair looked miserable being around him, as he scratched further into it's faux-leather sheath, white cotton exploding out more and more with each slice.

"So...I guess we just gaht to go out ther' doods ," Pickles voice sighed, heavily coated in a Wisconsin accent, his face finally revealed from his obnoxiously red and messy dreadlocks as he peered up at lackluster clock above the doorway. The annoying little ticks of it were the only sound accompanying the scratching of Murderface's knife for what seemed like over an hour. His voice sounded ever so slightly edged with worry, Skwisgaar wasn't the only one paying attention to the fact of the auditions it turned out.

Skwisgaar emerged from the shadows of the corner of the room, donned in all white, long,iconic pale gold hair spilling over his shoulders and back, his skin glowing with a slant trace of long, slender fingers clamped onto the neck of his guitar- he opened his full lips to speak,"Dere amnst even a reason for dis.I ams the only guitarist we needs."

"Yeah! Let'sch juscht leave. They won't even schee it comin'. Blamo! Audiosch motherfuckersch ," gurgled Murderface, who was finally satisfied with the gaping wound made into the arm of his seat.

"Nah dood! We cahn't jus' leave! Ofdensen would be piss'd after puttin' this together. We'rr short ah guitarists and so we get ah guitarist. Bing,bang,boom. That's why we'rr here," Pickles attempted at sounding convincing, but the inebriated slur of his words fell short. "Right Nathan?"

"Mhn," Nathan grunted roughly, his startlingly green eyes never once looking up from the weights he was pumping with his large left bicep. His obsidian colored hair curtaining the majority of his face.

Skwisgaar scowled, brows knitted as he spat lowly," We don't need nobody. Dis ams a one guitar band." His emotions were mingled in between confidence and fury, his stare here, with these so-called "_guitarists_" was enough to light his internal fire. He was thoroughly convinced they were wasting their time being here, and they all knew very he was more than capable to fill the duties of leader guitarist- if not rhythm and honestly bass,too.

"You herd Ofdensen, if you can prove that no one can keep up wit' you then we can, yknow, forgeht the whole 'rhymth' guitarist thing. Ya gahta prove yourself, not jus' to us but to the people," Pickle stood up wobbly kneed then straightened up and approached the door separating DethKlok from the rest, his sneakers echoing with each step. He reached out a hand to the knob, twisted , and with that the door opened, exposing a large mass of what could be called people, but to Skwisgaar he only saw wasted space. Out there was supposed to be their new rhythm guitarist. Pickles looked back at the other three men, the other two peering out of the doorway from the seat at the hopeful auditioners, grimacing, then slowly rising to follow after him. Skwisgaar held back, staring coldly at the blobs of skin colored mass with disgust, then ,remembering his love for superiority, strutted casually through the doorway, looming at them. The room went quiet and noisier at the same time, sounds of hushed voices and feet shuffling, people tuning their instruments as the foursome crossed into the auditorium's main room towards the stage.

Like Pickles, Muderface, and Nathan already assumed, Skwisgaar started showing up each and every auditioner in not much time at all. No middle age man, metalhead, or joe blow was to be spared, Skwisgaar battling them, shredding merciless, fingers flying over the fret before anyone of them could get out a single note. Skwisgaar couldn't help but smirk, no one could even dare to keep up. Skwisgaar's guitar sang it's own tune, one that he knew no one would know the know the notes of in hopes to seeing if any of them had a raw enough talent on the guitar to keep up on their own means, but like he already knew, there wasn't a single one. The adrenaline of watching other's defeat kept him fueled throughout the tryouts which extended through the day. It wasn't that he liked to watch people suffer as much as it was watching challengers fail at his hands. From what Skwisgaar could think up they had a lot of nerve trying out for a band he was in, even though Dethklok wasn't immaculately popular, he had been in enough bands for his name as well as his talent to be well known throughout the circuit. The fact people showed up thinking they were on the same level or even around the same level of him, was a joke to Skwisgaar and he had no issue humiliating them even further. It wasn't that Skwisgaar was an exceptionally cruel man, not by any found he was often misunderstood, yes, and misread, yes, but cruel, hardly. There were many misconceptions about him though, and he had a knack for picking them up. People liked to look upon him as corrupted and dominate, like he was something unreal, but he was very much so real, and he could tell by the way each and every single one of the sad excuses for guitarists approached him on the stage, they thought they were something better then him. Oh, _were they wrong_, Skwisgaar thought without an ounce of sympathy. He liked to think of himself as a people pleaser, he gave the people what they wanted, if they wanted him to be the frigid god he was rumored to be, he would give that to them.

Hour after endless hour the audition seemed to finally come to an end, no "guitarist" stood in the end. Skwisgaar finally realizing what he had knew was going to happen all along: Dethklok was now a one guitar band. He fingers ached now, the adrenaline from the battle now wearing off ever so slightly; he was spiked with hunger, which was usually hardly existent. But he decided that there was no doubt in his mind that all of his efforts had been worth it, and he was ready to take the throne.

The auditorium now vacant, the words seemed to boom and rickashay off the high ceiling and walls, "Is dat ams enough 'proof' for you ?" Skwisgaar gestured his hand fourth to the empty auditorium, as he sat atop a tower of amplifier speakers,glancing ever-so confidently to the three men seated before him.

"I don't think we uh.. ever doubted you," blinked Nathan , " Honestly,.. I just wanted to see people get their ass kicked." He gave up a smirk, and then continued, " I guess it's settled then, you think we should call Charles now?"

"Yee, I guess that kind ah settles everything' , we'rr officially ah one guitar band," smiled Pickles, nodding slightly with his signature side-smirk.

"Yeah, now we won't have to worry about any of those..regular jackoffs fucking up Dethklok's sound," scowled Nathan, " except, you know, for you ,Muderface."

"WHAT!What the fuck, thisch band would be pissch without me!PISSCH!"

This invoked snorts of laughter out of Pickles and Nathan, as Murderface, eyes open and brow furrowed, slammed his fist onto the stage. Skwisgaar would of loved to join in to the regular banter against Murderface, but he was still too deep in his haze. The pride of being the best out of thousands intoxicated him stronger than any drug running through his system,  
gave him more self-assurance than what he knew what to do with. It was almost an aphrodisiac , to claim the top without any question. Skwisgaar, in more ways than one, was always on top. The three other bandmates were still in kidding with each other , two against one, as Skwisgarr pushed his cell phone out of a snug front pocket of his sterile,white pants. He flipped it open and navigated himself through his contacts, looking for a "Charles Ofdensen", when a timid sounding, yet persistent, knocking came to the buildings front door, interrupting them all.

All their eyes rose up from what they were previously doing to glance at the door and then back at each other, only their eyes moving. The knocking halted for a moments pause, leaving the men on edge.

Nathan was the first to move, raising an arm up to point to the door, " I think someones at the door."

Sure enough, the knocking resumed again, then once again stopped.

"Don't they know itsch unlocked..geezsch," Murderface overreacting to the sound of the knocking, by placing his hands over his ears.

If almost right on cue, Skwisgaar caught with his eyes the handle on their side of the door budge slightly, and then ever-so hesitantly push open. He locked in on the orange,fluorescent sunlight from the other side of the door pour in to the shadowed room the further the door slowly glided open. The other members also caught on, all silently awaiting what lie on the other side of the door. Then all there was blinding, bright light all around Skwisgaar, robbing him of his senses . These few seconds felt more like eternities to him. Dethklok started to adjust to the agonizing brightness that strained their eyes with unrestrained force . Skwisgaar squinted and he started to make out what seemed to hover in the doorway..a shadow?

The shadow emerged cautiously, and right before Skwisgaars eyes this seemingly hulking shadow shrunk and shifted into the body of boy; his frayed and almost _torn_ looking hair grazed his shoulders in hues of brunette, that was topped with cap that looked a lot like a sack, his clothes that were no more than a unfortunate stained grey t-shirt and several-size -too-big pants with the knees dirty and torn on them hung off his scrawny frame, his clunky brown boots in no better shape. There was a fanny-pack snapped around his gaunt waist, and a foriegn looking guitar case with colorful stitching slung around his back, almost seemingly too big for his smaller size. He looked like he could use a bath..and some food,maybe a bed to sleep on.._charity case_.

Despite the meek appearance of his disposable attributes, Skwisgaar couldn't help as his harsh thoughts faltered when he caught glimpse of his face..it was utterly ripe with youth,the kid definitely in his ,smooth skin softly formed a slender,squared jaw line, and hallowed in at the high cheekbones- which displayed days, maybe weeks of hunger- that a light flush crept over; thin lips gently twisted into an unsure boys eyes darted shyly at each of the men, but it was not until they met Skwisgaar's gaze that he felt truly invaded by this stranger. His eyes were big and rounded, which would have given off a kind effect if it wasn't for his irises, which were fiercely pale, the color of frost. They locked onto Skwisgaar's, flashing him a look of..._what was that exactly_? He was overall extremely boyish looking, yet something softer,almost angelic, innocence smeared across the face like chocolate cake..

Skwisgaar had not stopped staring at this contradiction of a boy, even though they had broken their glance with Skwisgaar and had carefully made their way closer to the stage, where Dethklok awaited him. It seemed like decades committed to silence before the boy opened his mouth to speak, a timid squeak whispering through the air.

"H-hellos.. ams Toki,"he managed, his cheeks flushing brighter,he reached a slender finger up to point it to his chest,then darted his eyes shyly around the room again, this time not meeting the Swede's eyes to his own. He dropped his finger and reached a hand up, pulling off his cap and nervously wringing it between his hands,"Ams from Norways, so I's...I's get losts alongs de ways."

'Toki' gulped._Norway_? _That explains alot actually_... Skwisgaar as well as the other men were undoubtedly quiet, sizing up the boy in front of looked away from this so called 'Toki' for the first time since he showed up and glanced down to see his how his bandmates were reacting to this. He saw Nathan open his mouth to say something but no words came out, Toki starting to nervously babble more in a high pitched,heavily accented voice.

"I's reals sorry am late,but was w-wonderings.."Toki had his cap complete twisted in his shaky hands, " if ams good to tries still. " Toki let his head hang all the way down and his brunette hair covered those eyes of his. Skwisgaar couldn't say for himself why, but he felt a twitch of sympathy for the boy. The words Toki was saying, although ruined by his bad,hardly understandable english, had sincerity behind it. Skwisgaar couldn't help but notice the lack of obnoxious judgmentalism that was not exuding of the boy. He had felt it all day, when approached by yet another 'future rhythm guitarist for Dethklok', them sneering inside themselves how much better they were then Skwisgaar Skwigelf. The fact that he did not feel this now was foreign to him in slight, but then again, by judging by the appearance of Toki, he wasn't one in the right place to judge.

"I's just..reallys likes to… tries out is all,"Toki gulped once more trying to summon up some sort of confidence that seemed buried somewhere deep down inside of , Toki brought his head up and now glanced his eyes somewhere in the direction of the older man with buttery locks, chiseled cheekbones, full lips, and a set of blue eyes deeper than his own."You won'ts regrets it."  
This time, it was not Pickles voice that spoke, not Muderface, nor Nathan. This time it was Skwisgaar's, his voice nearly booming out of the the shadow he rested in upon stage, " Alrights…," his words suddenly taking the other four by shock. "You seems so nice, so its will be a shames when you goes downs like the others."

Young boy, or not, this 'Toki' was still a Skwisgaar's eyes, no amount of youth or innocent features could fool him into thinking otherwise. If this boy wanted to duel, he would duel, and the kid would face the consequences. Skwisgaar would make him submit, just like he had done to the others, there was no way he would let this oddball street rat even come close to stopping him by trying to evoke some sort of pity within him. Though, even if he would'nt admit it, Skwisgaar felt contradictions with his own thoughts; this boy, so utterly humble looking, just wanted to play for them. It would be wrong to turn him away, someone who had already looked as though he had been turned away one too many times. Quite honestly he _wanted_ to hear this kid play, this kid somehow ever so slightly reminded Skwisgaar of himself when he was that age, no where near as underprivileged, but the fact of just wanting to play. He would allow him to audition, and after he heard the kid, he would take him down just like he did the others, and that would be it. Skwisgaar was all too convinced this was how it was going to be.

With an abrupt shred of Skwisgaar's guitar pick on his fret, the duel had begun. Skwisgaar strummed out melodic notes at an ever quickening speed, almost like unbridled stallions-and by the look of Toki, it looked like he had almost been trampled by them. _This is going to be even easier than I thought_..Even within the first few seconds, Skwisgaar was ready to see Toki crumple to the floor in a sorrowful little heap. Just as he was finishing up his first strokes of the guitar, awaiting the boy to snap, Skwisgaar was startled by an abrupt movement from him. Toki had reached behind him and swung his guitar out of it's dated case, the guitar looking as in bad of a shape as himself. The boy wasted no time in combatting the melody of the guitar god himself,as his guitar began to sing not against his superior, but with him- and this time it shocked the rest of Dethklok as well.

Was Skwisgaar hearing this correctly? Was someone actually playing to his melody, and even more surprisingly keeping up? Every thrum of his guitar was met with the boy's, and even his bandmates noticed this. How far would this 'Toki' allow to be pushed to? Skwisgaar started to pick up the pace even faster than before, but once again was only backed up by a flurry of notes from the kid's guitar. Skwisgaar then started to realize how_ he_ was playing, his sound that much more crisper, his beat that much more heavy. The adrenaline blocked out the aching of his fingers from moving at such an accelerated speed, allowing him to continue to push the limits of Toki- wondering where his breaking point would be. If he had to admit it, the boy was good, had the potential to become even better.

Just when Skwisgaar thought it was never going to cease, Toki's fingers finally gave out with a last few plucks of his strings.

Perhaps out of pure exhaustion, or embarrassment, he saw the kid sink to his knees, finally accepting his need to surrender. His shaggy hair curtained his eyes as he dropped his head, and he suddenly appeared even smaller, awaiting the disappointing fate that swiftly approached. This sight itself was all too much to handle for Skwisgaar, who was torn between triumphantly succeeding and sympathy for his challenger, so he ducked out of the room quietly from behind the rest them and to the back exit, so swiftly that no one else even noticed his presence leave the room,even though his presence loomed heavily on the boy even after he left.

Once outside the building,Skwisgaar shifted his weight back against the door and breathed in his first breath of the crisp air he felt he had gone lifetimes without. Fumbling into his back pocket, he dug out a carton of cigarettes and withdrew a long,white roll of tobacco, and placed it between his lips. He replaced the package into his pocket and dug around in his other pockets before finding a lighter, pulling it out and flicking it, bringing the flame up to his lips and guiding his cigarette into the flame. He let go of the switch on the lighter and shoved it back into his pocket, bringing his long fingers back up to his cigarette. He took a long,deep draw out of it and guided the smoke into his lungs, then he tipped his head back and as slowly as he had inhaled, exhaled, watching the translucent gray smoke mingle in the air above him. He took another drag on it, before bringing his head down to glance around him. It must have been at least 5 or 6, late afternoon. The orange light that was introduced to him inside the auditorium now deepened into a strikingly sensual red, sprawled out onto the clouds above him. Despite the warmness in his throat, chilled air of autumn nipped at his upper arms and cheeks, raising tiny pin-point bumps on his arms, and like many of the other contradictions he was met with today, he _liked_ it.

He crossed from behind the auditorium around to the front, walking past vacant parking slots and dumpsters that had seen better days. By the time he had reached the front of the auditorium he had finished his first cigarette, and without hesitation drew out another one, repeating the process of before. He liked to watch the smoke fade up and out, it led as some sort of distraction from the things he already knew were going on inside the building as of now. Pickles would be the first one to bring the boy out of silence, telling him how well he did out of some half-heartedly way of trying to be nice, and Nathan grunting at his faults at the end. Pickles would tell the boy how close he was, not realizing how much the words were tearing the kid up inside, and Murderface only chiming in to tell him to leave. Skwisgaar looked up at the entrance of the auditorium, the same door the Toki-boy stumbled in through moments earlier. What was the boy thinking as he climbed up those steps, what went through his mind before he decided to let himself into Skwisgaar's domain.

Then Skwisgaar, looked back to the streets in front of the building... which way had the boy come from? How far had he walked to get here? _Or did he run_…

Skwisgaar found himself leaning against the building again, taking his now finished cigarette and putting it out against the wall. He brought his knuckles into his other hand and massaged gently. He was now drained and the ferocity of his playing was going to take a toll on his body sooner more than later. He knew he was good at guitar, but the way he was playing a few minutes ago was beyond that. Skwisgaar wasn't aware of it then, but it dawned on him that in that moment playing with the stranger, he wasn't even aware of the widened eyes of his bandmates, but the music and just the music. He shook his head to himself in awe, feeling something he hadn't felt in years , and let a smirk out for only himself to see. It didn't last long though, his face dropping as he heard the heavy auditorium shove itself slowly open, him knowing all too well who lie on the other side of it. Sure enough, within a few elongated seconds, he saw who he knew all too well who was coming, his chestnut hair still draping over his face , slender shoulders rolled forward. Skwisgaar watched the unaware boy make his way down the stairs he was making his way up less than 15 minutes ago, _is he limping ?_ As Toki reached the bottom of the stairs he brought his face up to the sunset, that striking red tint washing over his features, a rare sight for only one pair of eyes to see.

Skwisgaar took in this moment, postponing for a few seconds more, before once again being the first to speak for the second time today.

"Befores you goes..," Skwisgaar heard his voice say, the words he could tell taking the boy by alarm, and he watched him stop in his tracks, and slowly turn his head to face Skwisgaar, those frozen-over eyes onto his yet again, this time they were threatened with what could be mistaken for tears,"You needs to understands...," he continued.

"No ones ever mades me plays dis well before,therefore…"

Then Skwisgaar let the words that an hour ago he would of never even dreamed of saying roll off his tongue…  
"I wants you in dis bands."

These words once released into the air, could never be taken back. He kept his eyes on Toki's; the boys face fell into a catatonic-like state for only a split few seconds before realizing the words he had heard were indeed true. Skwisgaar watched the boy's expression transform into an expression knowly only as pure joy, eyes lit up somehow even brighter, and for the first time Skwisgaar caught sight of the his smile , which was wide and charming. Lost in the scene for a moment, he then awoke in another one, where Toki's arms were quickly being flung around his torso, squeezing heedlessly. He felt the boy's face bury somewhere between his collarbones; the feeling itself entirely unfamiliar and taking him off guard. Skwisgaar's ears picked up on the excited babble of the boy , a rush of his native tongue and his horrible english twanging in his ears. He had not realised this himself, but Skwisgaar had been smiling. The boy's actions were truly that of well...a _boys_ , this raising a question in Skwisgaar's mind as of how young the kid might be, his looks nor voice nor actions gave away any clues to this. It made Skwisgaar a little uneasy on the inside wondering if this kid would give their band a bad rep, afterall, it was a metal band...the _band_.

The next few moments came as a blur, after he could make his way from Toki's hug, he would make his way back into the auditorium , this time from the front door with kid somewhere short behind, and tell them that he wanted Toki to be their rhythm guitarist, and that yes,he was serious, no, he had not stepped out to get high, yes, yes, this was what was he really wanted.

He would tell them ,yes,from here on out Dethklok was to be a two guitar band, and they should call Ofdensen to tell him the news. Ofdensen would act a little surprised but still keep his generally mutual tone,coated with a little bit of relief; he would tell Skwisgaar he would be there shortly. Skwisgaar would hang up his phone and slip it back into his pocket, as he watched his bandmates get acquainted with Toki in a series of handshakes at first, and then something more casual, exchanging attempts of friendly conversation as they tried to make out what the boy was saying, his excited chatter of english dripping heavily with norwegian. Skwisgaar would stand back a little ways trying to make up his own mind about his sudden decision,but feeling annoyed with having to think about things and because it was hard to not get utterly distracted by his interest in the kid,he shook his thoughts and let himself get lost in stealing glances of the boy who was the now ,because of _him_, a member of Dethklok.


	2. Push And Pull

A/N: Warning: This contains an explicit scene also being heterosexual. So, my apologies for putting a hetero scene in here but, what can you do, it's Skwisgaar. I'm just getting started with this story, so hang in there! Like always any feedback from you guys is greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy!

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"Some kid, hm?" It was Nathan who said this, voice rumbling out of his lips as he exhaled smoke.

This made Skwisgaar smirk, glancing over at Nathan with a small turn of the head. He went back to looking in front of him, at nothing in particular, "Ja," he said before taking a draw out of his own cigarette.

"Just when I was, uh, accepting the fact that a one guitar band could work," a hushed sound of laughter fell from Nathans closed lips.

They were both quiet for a while after that, gazing in front of them, finishing up their cigarettes. The sky that was once a fierce red, now mingled in with nighttime, casting a hazy purple across the dimly lit upper atmosphere. It was around the time right before cities turned their street lights on. A part of town that earlier was enclosed with people now vacant, only the muted rings of traffic and a car alarm in the background, birds chirping their last song before the days end in trees that barred their very last leafs. The wind picked up for a second, lifting Skwisgaar's hair off his shoulders, exposing his neck to the bite of the air. The chill shook him a little more awake and he dropped his cigarette butt to the cement, scraping at it with the toe of his sighed and ran his fingers back through the front of his hair, then looked towards Nathan who was leaning against the railing of the stairs now, his arm propping himself up. It was just Nathan and Skwisgaar outside; after Skwisgaar hung up on the phone with Charles he didn't stick around inside the auditorium for too much longer, not wanting to witness nor be involved in the awkward stages of getting acquainted. He had slipped out of the auditorium again, the time not as unnoticed as the first. He had resumed his position up against the front of the building once more, enjoying another cigarette, Nathan storming out of the front doors shortly after- storming out not in a sense of emotion, but physical state; every move Nathan made seemed to be done with great physical force, unintentionally.

Nathan's bulging arms abruptly tensed as they too were assaulted by the wind. "Brutal. It's getting fucking cold, how long ago did you call Charles?"

"Maybes, 'bouts...fifsteens, twenskies minutes ago?" Skwisgaar resisted the urge to check his phone, as moving would open him up to the cold more. "Hej, what's month ams it?"

Sad, but true, it had been very hard for him to keep a track of time as of recently. It seemed like time was just dragging by him, days melting into nights which melted into another day, so on so forth, his mind blurry. He used common sense, if it was cold outside it was probably winter, if it was hot outside, you wore less didn't actually know how long he had lost track of time, it felt like only a few months to him but thinking about it now , soberly, he knew it was probably more like _years._

"December. Well, November, but...it's late November so it might as well just be fucking December," Skwisgaar thought Nathan sounded in between making a joke and being irritated, if that was somehow possible."Uh..why?"

"Ams so fucksing cold outs heres."

"Your from like fucking...the Netherlands or some shit, shouldn't you be used to this?"

"I ams nots from the Nestherlands, I fucksings hates the Dutch," Skwisgaar spat. It was true though, at one time he would of been able to handle cold weather very well, but within the last few years of living in America he had lost some of his tolerance.

"Huh...what fucked up country are you from again?" Nathan furrowed his eyebrows, scowling in thought. Everyone was well aware of the country Skwisgaar was from, but for the life of them, all his bandmates would sometimes have a slip up in memory- somehow not even the least bit surprising.

"Ams Swedish, Nathans," Skwisgaar gestured to his belt buckle: A swedish flag with the national colors removed and replaced with white and silver. He half smirked, half scowled," And it amns't fuckeds up. You wouldn't knows, with you's unsusperiors nationalities."

"Then get the fuck out," Nathan joked, a smirk appearing yet again.

Their informal wisecracking was cut short by the lights of a car exposing them. The car passed in front of them then pulled into the empty parking lot on the side of the auditorium. The car was painted a dark color, simple and nothing all too flashy. It was clean though, impeccably shiny exterior- a car Skwisgaar could see any lame business man driving to work every morning at 7 and back home at 5,getting stuck in traffic along the way. The thought made him smirk, as a man ,not far off from the man Skwisgaar imagined up, exited the car. It was Charles Ofdensen , their manager, but Skwisgaar already knew that. He had full brown hair that was combed back, _like always, _glasses balanced on the middle of his otherwise extremely average face , _like always_, his attire consisting of a black peacoat on top of a white button down and red tie, slacks, and shiny black shoes, _like always. _In fact, Skwisgaar couldn't even recall a time he _hadn't _seen the man dressed professionally. The mas probably only somewhere in his late twenties, early thirties- he wondered if the guy ever took a break- only from wearing slacks that is, Skwisgaar wouldn't complain about their manager working his ass off for the band one bit.

"Good evening, boys," Charles said, only a few feet away from where they stood. Once he reached them he continued, " I , ah, presume the auditions went well?"

The thought of this made Nathan snort with laughter, " It was brutal." Charles gave Nathan a questioning look, and waited until Nathan finally found the words to say," Skwisgaar kicked a lot of ass, I never realised how bad regular jack-offs are at guitar until today."

This made Skwisgaar laugh, but it came out odd sounding to him, lingered in the quietness of the air a little too long for his comfort. Then he heard a chuckle of laughter accompany his , distinguishing the sound coming from Nathan. When he glanced back over , which was more like _down_- taking in their height differences into account, he found a light trace of a smile across Charles face.

"But you did, ah, find someone suitable for rhythm guitar, correct?" Charles making a slight gesture with his hand as his spoke.

"Yeah...uh he wasn't bad, at...uh at all actually," Nathan shot Skwisgaar a glance raising his eyebrows for his correspondence, " we almost didn't let him in the band though, but um...I guess Skiwsgaar changed his mind. About , uh, ...everything, actually."

"Ah, did you hear something you liked Skiwsgaar?"

"Ja, I means he amns't the worst. Amns't the bests eithers. Dats , y'know, woulds be me," Skwisgaar haughtly exhaled his words, he hoped, giving off the impression of him not caring much about the situation. His mind drifted slightly back to the kid , repeating quieter than before, "Ja, he amns't the worst…"

"Well, this all comes to a great relief. Ah, what would be his name?"

"Uh...Tofu, or something," Nathan exhaled as well, looking up at the ever darkening sky.

Skwisgaar shook his head in disagreement, sending his pale locks to sway gently with each turn of his head. He fixed his eyes on Charles and crossed his arms over one another as to act as some sort of shield to the swift breeze blowing through them, "Toki. His name am Tokis."

A silence settled surprisingly comfortable between them , all of them running over their own thoughts- a momentary break to settle their minds. Charles broke the silence after a few seconds," Well I'd , ah, love to introduce myself. I presume they're inside?"

"_They're" _did not require any explaining, Skwisgaar knowing all too well that this meant Pickles and Murderface, his bandmates, and now, Toki, as well. Skwisgaar and Nathan both nodded their heads, out of beat with one another. It didn't take another word from Charles for Nathan to push himself off from leaning on the rail, and trudge up the stairs. He knocked on the door hard as a signal for them to come to the door, and he went back and resumed his position with the other two.

"Are you boys hungry?" Charles glanced to Nathan then Skwisgaar, Nathan nodding with a grunt, Skwisgaar shrugging his shoulders, adding in a "Guess so's."

Skwisgaar's words were cut off by the click of the door opening, Pickles going quickly down the stairs and with a wave of his hand and a grin, "Hey, Offdensen!"

"Ah, Pickles. Hello. Hello, Murderface," Charles said looking over to the stairs, where Murderface nearly ate shit. Recovering himself ungracefully, he grunted and looked over in Charles's direction.

"Schup, dude." A statement more than a question coming from Murderface.

Skwisgaar though hadn't realised any of this, if he did , he would have howled along with Nathan at Murderface's mishap. But he missed it, his eyes locking in on the door intent on seeing the person he , in all honestly, couldn't keep his thoughts off of. Skwisgaar couldn't quite believe himself, his thoughts, nor his actions. This kid was running circle through his head at 100 miles per minute, and he couldn't quite grasp the reason why this was happening to him. He didn't think it was jealousy, why would he let him in the band if it was..what was there to even be jealous of? _Definitely not his guitar playing_...maybe it was his face, his utterly _angelic_ face.._oh, Odin. There he is. _Out of all the blue eyes Skwisgaar had seen in his life, none of them the color of his. They glowed now in the dusk of the day, illuminating like two pale orbs, like a lighthouse's search lights directed towards the sea of his own eyes, finding, invading , piercing Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar felt strung out, hot, hot enough to _sweat_ but the brisk air kept him under control. He itched all over, his head panged with each beat of his blood, he felt absolutely bent.

What the _fuck _was wrong with him? He assumed this was probably just the lack of some temporary influence not being in his system. _Withdrawals. _He wondered why he was still sober, needing a quick fix, soon. Maybe a quick fuck, too, to get his head sorted out. Hell, he was already semi-hard, though not for any real reason. _Quick fix, quick fuck. _ He let out a sigh and rubbed the heels of his palms into closed sockets of his eyes. His head continued to rattle, he could hear it, his heart throbbing loudly in his ears. He tried to pay attention to it, as it pushed and pulled blood through his body; it was a song all on it's own. Skwisgaar tried to memorize it, _push, pull...push,pull...push…pull... _maybe if he could remember to, he'd try to play it on his guitar later. _Maybe…_

When he finally took his hands away and opened his eyes, he was sitting in the backseat of Nathan's truck which was coasting fiercely down a street, building after building, mainly boutiques, small businesses, and seedy little bars he'd _especially _love to go into, flickering past him on the other side of the window. He had no idea when or how he had gotten there, his mind feeling blanker than ever. He turned his head away from the window, everything seemed to be normal aside from himself: Nathan pushing the speed limit behind the wheel, Pickles in passenger with the seat semi-reclined, lighting a bowl of something that smelled deliciously earthy, but sweeter and thicker, Murderface to his left doing whatever, and his guitar splayed out on the seat between them.

"What's am dat, Pickle?" Skwisgaar was all too eager to get out of the haze he was in, and into another one.

"Oh, ya' know, dood," Pickles sighed in a way that sounded happy, inhaling from the pipe then exhaling, smoke rising in a cloud in front of his face," Hash. Laced wid' a lil bit of tha good stuff."

Skwisgaar heard Pickle let out a chuckle before he turned his body a quarter of the way back in his seat and strained his arm back towards Skwisgaar, pipe bestowed out towards him. Skwisgaar watched smoke still rise up from the bowl, swirling up towards him. He wasted no time in taking the pipe from Pickles and bringing it up to his own lips, fetching the lighter from his pocket,hitting the bowl with the flame from it , letting the crumpled mess get nice and toasty before taking the lighter away and inhaling generously at the smoke pouring through the spout. He forced the thick, sweet smoke down his lungs, holding it , letting it warm his insides up.

"Tha angeldust gives it ah real nice edge…" Pickles muttered, playing with the end of one of his dreadlocks, running it across his finger, feeling it's texture.

"Mhn..Ja," Skwisgaar said with his voice low, letting the smoke finally seep up slowly to his throat from his lungs and into his mouth, rolling off his tongue. The smoke lingered, suspended in the air, then began to curl upwards towards the ceiling of the car. He took 3 more hits of the sweet spice consecutively, before reaching his arm over the back of the passengers seat, nudging the pipe back at Pickles.

Things around him started to get foggy, but maybe that was from all the smoke inside Nathan's truck. He felt as heavy as the smoke, his limbs and eyes especially, but somehow he could see clearer now. The headache already dissipating, along with his sobriety. It was funny to him how things made more sense to him under the influence of something, contrary to the common belief he heard of it making you slower in the head. Skwisgaar called bullshit on that statement, he felt _more_ aware the _more_ things that were in his system; he even remembered the first time he ever got high, it was only marijuana but he felt more focused than he had in his thirteen years of life, and he spent the whole time with his hands on the guitar,loving the way the strings pressed sharply into his then soft hands.

Then another boy, but not a younger version of himself, came to mind with hands that were probably as soft as his once were.

"Where ams-where ams the kid?" Skwisgaar forced out of his mouth, a slight twinge of worry inside him. He closed his

"Geezsch, we juscht had thisch converschation," Murderface moaning with irritation. _Fuck him, _Skwisgaar didn't care what Murderface had to say, at this point he didn't care what _anyone _had to say if it was going to be said in such a rude way. He wasn't in any mood to put up with Murderface's temper tantrum right now, an intense rush of the hash finally hitting him in just the right spot.

"Hah, uhhh…you were , really out of it I guess," Nathan said with a low-pitched laugh. He stopped talking for a moment, switching his attention back to the road. He was now trailing shortly behind a car that looked all too familiar- Charles's car. He mimed the other car's actions, merging into the right lane and pulling off onto the freeway. Larger building that seemed to scrape the sky lined both sides of the freeway, towering over them. Skwisgaar fixed his gaze up at them until his eyes adjusted to the point where he was only staring back at a translucent version of him reflecting off the glass of the window. Nathan's picked up where he left off, " Food? Ofdensen is taking us out for some , uh… Toki had to ride with him, there wasn't enough room in here."

Skwisgaar thought quickly,his mind much snappier now; Nathan's truck had five seats. Them plus the boy would be five. He could of fit just fine- but then where would his guitar go? Surely not on the floor of the truck..and plus it would have been cramped up with the three of them in the back probably. Although, he wouldn't of _really_ minded being _cramped up to hi-...seriously_? Drugs made him think of weird things so ,naturally, instead of getting weirded out by his own thoughts, he let out a small smirk, staring at it in his reflection. He looked like an asshole, _good_; this made him let out a small snort of laughter.

"Dats ams some good stuff, Pickle."

He turned his head to look at the back of the redhead's dreaded head, which bobbed up and down in agreement.

"What's all dids I miss?"

"Just business stuff...uh Charles and Toki ,I couldn't uh...really understand what _either_ of them... were…. saying," Nathan ended with another quiet chuckle escaping him, "Man...Pickle, that uh, that really is some fucking good stuff."

"I know, I know," Pickles sounding all too giddy.

"Mumbo jumbo, thatsch all," Murderface interjected, gesturing to Skwisgaar with his hand, trying to give off the impression of "clearing the situation up" for him. Pickles tilted his head back to look at Murderface, and then cringed, stifling his howls of laughter. Murderface directed a scowl towards the window, when he turned back around. He crossed his arms across his chest, probably in some attempt to look "over" the whole situation, but Skwisgaar just thought it made him look a _dildo,honestly.._and chimed in with Pickles laughter. Soon the truck was erupting with random snorts of laughing.

Time seemed to _ooze_ past Skwisgaar, unsure himself of how long it had taking them to stalk Charles's car off of the freeway and onto what seemed to be a little tamer part of town. The paint on the buildings not as dull and the windows gleamed at him, street lamps brighter and the sidewalk less vacant,bar signs more colorful, street performers looked cleaner but no more less weird, the ride seemed smoother. They delved a little deeper into the city, then followed Charles into a parking lot that was no where near as empty the parking lot back at the found a parking spot a few cars down from where Charles had pulled his keys out of the ignition, Skwisgaar reached below his seat and pulled out a black towel, covering his guitar carefully with it. _No one, _no matter how nice this part of town seemed, needed an eyeful of _that._

Stepping down and out of the truck, the chill of the wind didn't seem to bother him as much after being warmed up from the hash and the heater from Nathan's ride. The four men found their way to the other two, Skwisgaar's eyes immediately gravitating towards Toki's. He felt shot to the core when he saw the eye's of the boy's looking back at him. The boy wore a smile, it was small, and sweet- Skwisgaar felt cold again, and as an act of pure dominance, broke their eye contact, to look at Charles who was saying that because of their hard work today, to feel free to order whatever they wanted, his treat. Times like these were not common, though Charles was clearly well off and born into at least a middle-class family, Skwisgaar knew most of Charles money and effort went into making Dethklok happen, providing for the boys as well as himself was not always easy, and so when they were given a time to splurge, they all felt immensely grateful for it. They all knew too well what it was like living on a budget, especially when most of that budget went towards numerous fixes _more_ than what Charles's out of pocket cash was intended for. Skwisgaar was looking forward to tonight the closer they approached the restaurant, trailing behind Charles as they led him to the place.

The inside of it was brick walled, just like the outside. The lights dim, with high ceilings. Some sort of amped up factory-feel to it; people buzzing around the restaurant, at least it had a _bar. _After being led to a large booth by a waitress who was more than _eye-fucking_ Skwisgaar, he said to mainly Charles," Ams goings to gets a drink," already starting to walk towards the general direction of the bar.

"You sure you don't ,ah, want to order at the table?"

"Ja, ams sure."

He took a stool at the bar that was already close to being full. Before settling into his seat all the way, the bartender saw him and dropped the customer she was already helping, making her way past the other drinker's and in front of him. Her _tits_ nearly fell out of her company t-shirt, which looked like she had cut the neckline to expose more herself. She was tanned and her blonde and brown streaked hair was toppled messy on top of her hair in a bun, stands falling out all over the place. _Sloppy slut..._but he was still smirking, an eyebrow raised- surely enough, making the young woman swoon and giggle nervously.

"What'd you like?" Her voice was hoarse, which came as a bit of a shock to Skwisgaar's ears.

"Hmm…three shots. Two of thems being vodkas, one gins."

"I was talking about in women," more giggles escaping her. _Sloppy slut_, he scoffed inside his head. She wasted no time, she could have probably _taken_ some time, taking into account that as she slammed three shot glasses in a row in front of him and filled them up, she overfilled one of them, and missed her aim for the shot glass on the other two. _Very sloppy slut._ But, he couldn't complain. Booze was booze, and boobs were...well...boobs. He fed her another smirk, not really meaning it , and lifted one of the vodkas shots up to his mouth and downed it, then without stopping downed the gin, and then the other vodka, his hands moving quickly. He, like the bartender, decided he wouldn't waste any time. He leaned over across the bar counter resting on it and wiggled his pointer finger of his other hand for her to come in closer.

When he spoke to her this time, his voice was low and soft, almost husky, his accent leaking out more now that he was becoming more intoxicated, "Ams you wantings to see what I does to ladies that ams to my likings?"

More giggles, _all _giggles. It was getting on Skwisgaar's croaky voice attacked his ears again," The one night I don't have someone to cover my shift you show up! But, I do get off work in two hours, if-"

"Ja?" Skiwsgaar cut her off, his sudden interruption probably getting her hopes up, and Skwisgaar decided he was ready for this to be over and ended it then, much like he had done earlier in the day to all the auditioners. That's all she was, an auditioner, trying to audition to be his ever changing sex partner, for this evening. But she had crossed the line, first when opened her mouth to speak, second when she made a mess of his drinks, and three when she tried to initiate and take dominance of the situation. Skwisgaar had had it, he wasn't even angry, not really, he was just over this lady entirely,because of her not he was not wanting to spend another minute at the bar ,which he had hoped to spend a good amount of time at stood up of the tall bar stool, towering even more over her,"Well forgets it, you amns't worth the wait."

He turned and walked away from the scene slowly, thankfully not hearing another peep out of the girl. His vision was melting little by little, not sure if it was from smoking or drinking, but it seemed to take him a little longer to get back to his band's table than he had hoped. He sat down on the edge of the booth on one side and slid himself further on the seat, grabbing everyone's attention because Murderface, who never seemed to stop complaining, now unsurprisingly complained about having to scoot over. One side of the booth had Skwisgaar on the end , and Pickle next to the wall sandwiching Murderface, the other side with Charles on the end, and Nathan in front of Pickles, Toki in between them,head bowed down to his menu.

"It's nice of you to join us, Skwisgaar. Ah, " Charles was slanted in towards Toki , but not enough to invade the boy's space. He seemed to be helping Toki with the menu, attempting to explain to him what certain dishes were, Toki's eyes wide with amazement. _What, has he never eaten in a restaurant before?_ Skwisgaar stopped in his thoughts, surprised with the revelation he had come across all on his own, _had he not? _Charles looked back up from Toki's menu and to Skwisgaar, "We were just about to order," his eyes darting to the waitress who Skwisgaar just realised was standing at the head of their table, " Did you ,ah, get enough to drink?"

Skwisgaar nodded, only slightly though, deciding he could always have more to drink. Then he caught glimpse of Toki nodding but not for the same reason, and Charles sat up straight , retreating back to his own space. Skwisgaar watched Toki raise his head up to the woman , who was at least fifty,grey streaking through her dull brunette hair which was pulled back, saying,"Ams going to…going to," his eyes trailed off to Charles's who nodded at him before he continued, looking back up to the woman, "Ams goings to haves the chic-chicksens salads. T'acks."

"And I am going to have the , ah, tri-tip. Medium-rare, thank you," Charles said handing over his side of the booths menu.

"And you, hon?" The woman's voice twanged with an accent that seemed to come out straight from a western movie. She stared down at Skwisgaar from her notepad, her crows feet and laugh lines deepening in the dim light of the restaurant.

Skwisgaar picked up the menu Murderface had resting in front of him, to the first page, scanned it less than 10 seconds and looked back up at her, " Ams having the salmons."

Pickles passed his menu down, making it to Skwisgaar, which he held up the menus to her, letting his hand softly caress the back of her hand as he handed them off to her,holding her eye seemed to perk her up a bit, and she gave him a shy grin. She left to place the orders,Skwisgaar eyeing her backside hungrily, then fixed his gaze back to the table when Charles started to speak.

"So,ah, I guess now is a good time to discuss this now that you're all here," He shot around the table, crossing his hands in his lap,"Toki, the next few days may be a bit of work for you. Adding in a new member to Dethklok takes a lot of work, and there will be a lot of documents that you will need to review and sign. Contracts, ah, that generally go over your obligation to this band as well as lays out restrictions and rules for you." In the background,Murderface could be heard imitating the sounds of snoring.

"Uhms...Misters Managers, I just ams wants to play what ams musics." _ .Damn._ Tokis voice cracked when saying this, his voice high-pitched for a boy. Skwisgaar had a hunch Toki had already gone through puberty, making him wonder why his voice had done that. All it did was add to his boyish image. None the less, hearing Toki saying that made Skwisgaar smirk.

Charles continued, " I wish it could be that easy. But , it takes a lot of work to run a band. Practice, contracts, meetings, and especially dedication," his voice dropped now into a even more serious tone," Is that something you think you'll be able to handle, Toki?"

"Toki am beings able to handles,"nodding his head up and down as he said this, his cap not budging from the top of his head," I…," pausing he tried to find his words, "I ams ever gratefuls." He wrung his hands together in his lap, still struggling at words, then lifted up his eyes to Skwisgaar, a gaze everyone saw, "especially to ams you."

The truth finally settled in, Skwisgaar felt it, pulling him down almost as heavy as the alcohol did. Everything Toki was about to have in his life, was all thanks to Skwisgaar, and now the others were realizing it too. Skwisgaar needed another drink, or _maybe Pickles has some of that stuff left_...He was already thoroughly cross-faded, but felt the urge to become even _more_ turned his head to look at Charles, pausing to figure out the words again, " He ams the one, who I ams most grateful to's. Let's me play , ams foirst. Seskandlies , whens I was thinkings I's made dis idiots out of myself's, he lets me in the band." Toki turned to look back at Skwisgaar, _god,_ his english was bad. Toki was smiling once more, getting embarrassed and turned his face towards the table.

"Well, that is , ah, _very _generous of Skwisgaar-"

"T'acks you Skwisgaars," Toki interjected, eyes still gazing down at the table. Hearing the boy's voice saying his name, made Skwisgaar a little antsy on the inside,_what the fuck_, Skwisgaar Skwigelf does not get "antsy". He had never heard something so simple before, yet so sincere , so well _sweet_. Toki's voice drenched in gratitude, stumbling over all his words hopelessly except for those- as if he had been practicing them for a wanted to blame himself for feeling this way on the drugs or alcohol messing with his judgement but...

What happened next, no one could believe what they saw. "Your welcomes, little Tokis," Skwisgaar said, smirking, but not in his usual way; saying it , but not in his usual way _either_, somehow softer. _Friendly_, even? '_Littles' _Toki? Who was this guy who had taken over his body? Toki was just in time to bring his head up and see the profound sight everyone else saw, even if he himself didn't know how rare it was, at least he _saw_ it.

"Well,as I was, ah, saying it's good you all are here for this discussion, and I would like to skim over this topic, in the least, as it may take some , ah, working out," Charles intercepted at the right time. He started to aim his words towards Toki,yet again," Dethklok sometime ago and I decided that it would be in everyone's best interest to move the band into the same household, as none of them have any obligations with their families. We did this so ,ah, there would be structure and stability to the band, such as convenience of practicing. Toki, as a member of the band, your required by contract to be housed under the same roof as them," Charles examining Toki's expression as he said this, Toki nodding here and there as he caught on.

"Boys, it also has to be under your awareness that this would mean Toki would be housing with the rest of you now. Whatever belongings he ,ah, deemed important enough to take with him would be moved into the apartment."

"Scho what your schaying ish…? New roommate? " Murderface had a talent for speaking when silence was starting to get too awkward.

"Yes, that is _exactly_ what I am saying."

Skwisgaar wasn't entirely opposed to this thought, since their apartment was pretty much a place of sex,drugs, and ,well, _metal _, he assumed he'd be too busy to really get bothered by another presence in the house. They _had_ lived there with Magnus- Skwisgaar would gladly take someone else's stay under their roof if it meant no Magnus. When Magnus had left, they threw all his _shit_ into the back of Nathan's truck, drove the _shit_ to the outskirts of town, picked up some beer on the way, and torched the _shit_ - turning it into a night of being drunk around a bonfire,which was only a few weeks ago but felt like a very distant memory. Magnus had never came back to retrieve his _shit_ anyways, and even if he had, _oh fucking well ._ Magnus, instead of like Nathan and Pickles who shared a bedroom (although they really had no problem doing so, since they were best friends), refused to share the second bedroom with one of the other two, making the excuse that it was too small to share with someone else- which it was- but it was the _thought_ that counted. With Magnus's room empty, it was an opportunity for Murderface or Skwisgaar, who had both been sleeping in the living room, and not on the most glamorous terms, to move into Magnus's old room. Skwisgaar took advantage of the fact that after Murderface had read "Revenge is Coming" splattered against the walls of their apartment, he had _conveniently _left to "go on a walk", and didn't return till the end of the day. Skwisgaar by then had already moved all his stuff , that had mingled and moved strangely around the apartment for months and months, in a more permanent spot in _his _room now. When Murderface returned he was sure something had changed in the apartment but wasn't sure, couldn't put a finger on what was wasn't until they were retreating to their beds to sleep off the remnants of the various trips they were on early in the morning of the following day, that he watched Skwisgaar retreat into Magnus's old room. Of course upon that, he started to shriek in a tantrum. Skwisgaar just shutting the door on Murderface's empty threats and locking the door. That night he had the best sleep of his life, probably to the fact that he hadn't _really _slept in a bed in months.

"Well, it won't bother me none," Pickles said, lifting a glass of deep colored beer to his lips and taking a swig. He looked at Nathan across from him and raised his eyebrows, in questioning.

"Uh...yeah. I don't care but, you don't have a lot of shit to move in right? I hate fucking moving furniture, it's freaking brutal., especially on my back. Aghhhh, I really hate movinggg-"Nathan started to growl, his voice getting louder and quicker.

"I-I ams already got everything with me , rights here, so you don'ts got to go worries," Toki reached down and patted his fanny pack, but from where Skwisgaar was sitting it looked like he was patting his dick. This made him start to laugh, more buzzed by each minute. He had thought it was a joke, but realized he was the only one laughing. When did this happen? When did he become the only one to laugh? Usually, it was the complete _other _way realised he was way too intoxicated for this table, everyone else dead they were just far too _under-_intoxicated.

"Uh, well Toki, we can discuss these matters further in private. Tomorrow, yes?" Charles now cutting off the silence.

Skwisgaar excused himself from the table, mind still swimming. _Already have everything with you? What's the even mean? _The hash seemed to be fucking with his mind more than he liked it to, at least in this situation. He found his way to the back of the restaurant, standing there idly in the hallway where the kitchen door was, as well as the restrooms. He watched and waited; workers going in and out of the kitchen, delivering food, all of them women, he noted. His sex drive never quit, and he knew this well. He was _hungry._ Where was his waiter , thinking cleverly that he would like to order something that wasn't on the menu. Smirking at his own jokes, he kept watch, confidence rising within him from his own thoughts. He found their table's waiter starting her way to the hallway, making her way for the kitchen but he made his move, and it was all too easy- like always.

Skwisgaar had hoped it was a single restroom, but it was not. The faint disappointment did not make him hesitate in the least. Actually, the thought of fooling around in public for everyone to witness sent more blood rushing to his groin, which had been throbbing in protest a little longer then he would like to admit, taking into account that he _usually _got it taken care of right away. He found himself inside one of the stalls, his back pressed against the door,pants pulled down just barely enough. His dick was being enveloped in the neverending wetness of the older woman's mouth. Unlike the bartender lady, this one was _all _woman. Her faintly wrinkled,soft hands worked at the rest of his length, him already knowing the routine of how people handled him. He eased her into a quicker pace,applying a heavy hand on top of her head but not grabbing it , in an attempt not to mess up her hair. He knew all too well, women in general, but _especially _older women, _hated _that. She had her eyes fixed up at him, his gaze fixed all too intently on what her lips were doing.

They had had the men's restroom all to themselves, up until someone had pushed their way through the door and went straight to the sink. The faucet turned on, and Skwisgaar tried his best not to get distracted from the woman kneeling in front of him, so he grunted for her to continue when she halted slightly. Whoever entered the restroom, Skwisgaar presumed, had discovered their little sexual escapade. He heard the faucet slow to a trickle, and decided to be even a little more daring, because as hot as public sex was to him, it was even hotter to humiliate a third party with his dominance.

"Mhn...ja, just like dats," he muttered in a rough swedish accent, " ..ja. Faster."

She obeyed and he was now secretly having a fit inside him how great this had turned out. The thought of it alone was a total get off, but having it happen? He tipped his head back, moaning in a hushed tone. He decided to get even more daring, but this time not towards the third party member, but to the woman. _Glenda_, her name tag read. He knew that he probably couldn't get away with talking disrespectful to the woman, at least not in english, and it was a trick he often used to do what he wanted anyways. He brought his eyes back down, watching her for a second before saying in a slightly louder and clearer voice, "Åh, Glenda ... suga min kuk, som när du gjorde det här för pengarna, du smutsiga ... gamla ... slampa," as lips sucked hungrily at him.

The words that flowed out of his mouth were utterly filthy, and he knew it. And he _loved_ it, so much he didn't realise that as soon as his last words entered the air, whomever was listening in on them had fled the bathroom altogether, probably feeling immensely embarrassed for walking in on them. He finished up not long after, him being loaded only making him cum that much more.

When he left the restroom, he felt clarity stronger than he had in a while, his needs generally met and altogether pretty satisfied by how his night was turning out. When he sat back down, his plate of food was waiting for him, still warm, as the other men had already started to enjoy theirs. He started to cut his salmon into bite size pieces, taking them into his mouth one by one, chewing slowly. He then became fully aware of one person's eating in particular which was much unlike everyone elses. Skwisgaar watched as Toki devoured his whole bowl of food, quickly, but none the less enjoying every bite of it like he would never eat again. It was a salad… _a salad? _If he ate that all the time no wonder he was so thin. But the way Toki was digging into his food, as well as his body frame, gave way to the thoughts that maybe this was his first meal in a while. A longer while then he had earlier assumed.

Toki finished his meal first, then Pickles and Murderface, Charles, then Nathan. Skwisgaar observed them eating while slowing picking at his own plate, no where near finishing it but in no mood to want to. After their meal , Charles would pay their tab, leaving a somewhat generous tip behind. Skwisgaar wouldn't see "Glenda" again. Once out the door, and without any hesitation, Skwisgaar would be smoking cigarettes with Pickles at the trunk of Charles's car. His exposed arms would raise with goosebumps, but he'd refuse to shiver. He would casually glance around the group of them, but the one he stayed on the longest was the kid. Toki didn't look back at him, instead he directed his pale eyes down towards the parking lot cement, looking a little more than troubled. His cheeks were being bitten by the wind and becoming flushed.

Standing here like this made the day feel weird to Skwisgaar, almost like it was just his was in a weird town with too many weird scenarios after another, nothing at all feeling very ordinary. He could feel the ache from earlier returning,and this time he knew he would not be able to shoo it away so easy. He longed for familiarity, wanting to be back at their apartment, either seated in his usual spot on their shitty,worn out couch or sprawled across his mattress, his guitar in his hands, maybe if he was lucky a good joint between his lips or maybe a sheet of acid dissolving on his tongue. Maybe Pickles would play his drums, sending their neighbors banging on the walls. Maybe Nathan and him could collaborate together on a new song. Maybe Murderface would drink some beer with him and watch some awful horror movie, the ones that only came on at night , one step away from being too grainy of quality to watch at all. He wanted this more then anything right now. Something to associate with the usual.

But instead, tonight they would be staying in a hotel, somewhere not too far down the road from here, Charles told them before giving them the directions. Skwisgaar knew all too well that they knew how to party it up in a hotel room, but it still wasn't _home _or at least the place he could most closely associate with being a home to him. If he wasn't so tired, and if his mind wasn't so flighty, he would have driven them there himself, with a license or not. They weren't that far away, a little under 40 minutes, but after today Charles knew that they'd all be tired, especially now after their meal, so Charles arranged them a place to stay.

" I advise you all get a , uh, good night's rest under your belt. And I hope you all keep your meeting with Roy Cornickelson on monday in mind, they'll be sending a cab for you at ten. Ah, I'll be meeting you boys there."

"And whatta 'bout Toki?" Pickles questioned while bending over and rubbing his cigarette out on the ground, sending Toki to finally look up when hearing his name.

Toki looked towards Charles for an answer, Charles kept his voice as controlled as always," Toki will be with me for the next few days, filling out necessary paperwork. I'll also have contracts for you four to sign, which I will, ah, bring on Monday. Toki will also be at the meeting. It will also be in your best interest to be expecting Toki to move in on Monday, so do your best to keep the apartment at a ...controlled state."

With that being said, the night started to come to a close. Charles told them he would have his phone nearby, if they needed anything, _like always- _but they never really did. Charles wishing them a good rest of the night, gesturing to Toki that it was okay to get into the car now. Pickles and Skwisgaar backed off to one side the side, Murderface and Nathan on the other. Skwisgaar stuffed his hands into the back pockets of his stark white pants, watching Charles pull out of his parking raised one of his hands to them, a gesture of bidding them goodbye, his car then driving away from them towards the exit that led back onto the streets. Skwisgaar kept his eyes locked onto the back window of his car, swearing he could see the shadow in the passenger's seat turn around and gaze out the back, icy bright irises boring back into his, watching him until distance got the better of their gaze.

The ride to the hotel was a lot like the ride to the restaurant; just four twenty-something year old guys with pupils dilated the size of craters,the windows rolled up and the heater on, smoke all around them with just a _hint_ of air. The only difference was this time, they all took turns passing the pipe around, Murderface and Skwisgaar having a competition in the backseat of seeing who could blow better smoke rings- Murderface protesting he could do them, though none of the three could vouch that they had ever seen it before. Skwisgaar tipped his head back, Pickles unbuckled and turned around hanging over the seat intent on watching them, Murderface facing Skwisgaar with a leg crossed and his arms folded over his chest, Nathan slowing his driving down just enough where he could take quick glances to the back seat. Skwisgaar puffed out 6 perfectly shaped donuts of smoke into the air, that were so thick with smoke it seemed to take forever to dissipate, resulting in a triumph over Murderface's blob of smoke he blew out, swearing up and down it had a hole in the middle of it, once again, none of them being able to vouch for him.

All of them were so cooked, that midway to the hotel, they got lost; which seemed ridiculous to them all because Charles said the hotel was less than 10 miles away. Nathan had to pull over into a neighborhood at one point to try to "remember", of course this consisted of him doing this with the pipe in his hand and the lighter in the other. Murderface pulled on the truck handle to unlock the door then thrust it open, all the smoke and heat in the truck's interior quickly vanishing out the door. Autumn night air blasted Skwisgaar and he groaned, hissing for the "dildo" to "shuts the fucksing door!"

Murderface didn't, instead he turned around and unzipped his fly,then brought his fist up in the air with his middle finger up while taking a piss. Skwisgaar cringed as he saw steam actually rising up in front of Murderface as he finished up. Murderface climbed back in, and slammed the door shut quickly, Nathan exhaling the smoke through his nostrils as he turned around and punched Murderface in the thigh, Murderface howling from the contact, "What the fuck!"

"Don't slam my truck door, asshole!" Nathan turned back around then glanced over at Pickles and shot him a massive smirk, Skwisgaar catching this and starting to chuckle to himself. Nathan passed the pipe back to Pickles, and shifted his truck into drive again, taking the wheel.

"You know where you ams going now Nathans?"

"Yeah..uh..I mean I hope, I don't wanna sleep in the fucking truck tonight, when I know theres a bed in a ten mile radius waiting for 'd be brutal."

"Not asch brutal asch a fucking dead leg," Murderface spat, scowling out the window.

"Does you always got to be such am dildos?"

This got the truck howling with laughter, none of it coming from Murderface though. It took Nathan another good ten minutes before finding their hotel, figuring out they had actually been passing it multiple times as they did circles around the blocks. Before Skwisgaar knew it they were out of the elevator, stumbling in through the door to their room. Thank god for Charles getting them adjoining suites, a bed for each of them to enjoy for the night that was probably at least twenty times more comfortable than the ones back at the apartment, the only plus of being _here_ rather than _there_. Guitar in hand he slowly fell back onto one of the queen beds by the window. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Actually, he quite literally felt like he was on a cloud. He closed his eyes and positioned his guitar across his torso comfortably, putting his fingers on the fret. He thought back, now, trying to remember the tempo in which his heart was beating in earlier. He closed his eyes and tried to focus in on it now, blocking out the arguing coming through the doorway that lead to the other room about who got the bed by the tv- Pickles or Murderface. He reached his other hand down pulling his pick out of his front pocket and holding it up to the strings. The other noises finally drowning out, he locked onto yet again the sound of blood- _life _pushing and pulling through his veins. _Push, pull...push,pull...push…pull…,_he listened to it once more, and then a third time just to make sure he had it down, and finally, began to strum away; his guitar in complete sync with the tempo of his heart.


	3. Two Moons

**A/N:** This chapter is pretty long, but in order to get along with a story as well as ease my mind a little bit, it had to be done. Hang in there! It was hard to get out what I wanted to say in this chapter, but hopefully it'll still be enjoyable to read, nonetheless. Enjoy! Feedback is always greatly appreciated.

* * *

When Skwisgaar awoke, his guitar was clenched tightly in his hands, his body curled around it. His hands refused to open without a fight, as they tried to stay clamped,knuckles stiff and feeling nearly swollen from the vigorous playing from the day before. Deeming by the sunlight peeking in through the sheer curtained window, it was probably only 7 or 8- far too early for him to be up if compared to his normal had no recall of actually falling asleep, a little bummed he missed out on the fun as he sat up and saw Murderface sprawled out asleep on the floor under the door way that connected the suites. Groggy still, he placed his guitar down beside him,rubbing his knuckles as he glanced at the others: Nathan who was so keen on sleeping in a bed the night before, now laid stomach down and halfway hanging off the foot of the bed, sheets tore back and crumpled, pillows knocked off. Pickles was the only one properly tucked in bed, Skwisgaar saw this as he stood up and peered his head into the other suite. He then looked down at Murderface beneath him, eyes catching a glimpse of something far too good to go unnoticed.

"Ohs, for fucks sakes," he muttered to himself, smirking. It _was_ too good; he crouched down a little to examine the word "douche bag" sprawled sloppily across Murderface's upper lip in what looked like permanent marker. He took a moment to take the sight in before hoisting himself back up, turning around and chuckling to himself, fingers combing back through his hair. A scattered trail of individual shot bottles of cheap alcohol led him to the open door of the mini fridge, shoving it closed with the side of his calf as he walked by it. He found his way to the bathroom,he pulled off his boots and socks as soon as he had the door shut, his bare feet now meeting the uncomfortably cold off his day-old clothes quickly and hanging them on the door handle he made his way to the counter where he set down the contents from inside his pockets: cigarettes, lighter, phone,_guitar pick_. He leaned over slightly and peered at himself through the mirror; the area around his eyes were shadowed with dark circles making his eyes seem even bluer, his hair a little more scattered than usual though no less full, chest a little more sunken looking, skin somehow even paler- he was thoroughly sure a shower would probably help his case.

He observed the complimentary products next to the sink, the usual mouthwash, shampoo,conditioner, bar of soap, and shower cap . He was unsure who actually used the shower caps, deeming them only suitable for maybe..._a granny? _He shook the thought quickly though, knowing if he didn't it wouldn't take much time to head south, not that he was opposed to rubbing one out in the shower, but because his hands were still a little stiff. He also found on the counter one of the little bottles of alcohol,this one whiskey, full and unopened. Someone in their inebriated state must had set it down to take a pee and forgot about it entirely- which was just good news to Skwisgaar, who didn't hesitate in the least to crack it open and drink it's burning contents down in one grab the personal sized mouthwash next and twisted the cap off, tipping his head back as he emptied half it's contents into his mouth. He replaced it's cap as he swished it around his mouth, and after a few moments, he spat the blue liquid into the sink, turning on the water momentarily to rinse it down. He grabbed the other contents , except for the shower cap, and padded towards the bath. Skwisgaar set the toiletries down on the edge and twisted the knobs until he got the warm shower he desired.

The _best_ thing, Skwisgaar thought, about hotels, was probably the fact the hot water never ran out- not like back at the apartment where if you over welcomed your stay in there for a few seconds too long, you'd be blasted with cold water. Therefore, he took advantage of this time, standing under the shower head for few minutes not doing anything just enjoying the trickle of never ending warmth that greeted him from the top of his head all the way down. When he finally decided to start getting to work, he washed and conditioned his hair with care and made sure each limb and everywhere in between on his body was washed thoroughly with soap that was supposed to smell like "Fresh Rain".

When he emerged from the shower, he bent his head over and dried his hair with a large,fluffy white towel. Bringing himself back upright, he toweled himself off- he felt ridiculously clean and resented having to put on the same clothes as the day before. His tight white pants slipped on a little easier over his bare lower half, after having a day of wear behind him,and they didn't hug against his balls as uncomfortably. He finished dressing and slipped his boots back on,filled his pockets back up, tossed his towel into the corner of the room,and exited back into the suite.

He found the room's complimentary coffee pot, along with it's supplies, on a table near the restroom, and started brewing himself a pot. While he waited it for to be done, he started to search for the television's remote for a good five minutes, unable to find it he gave up and went to pour himself a cup of coffee, it's smell smothering the air. He didn't bother with sugar or cream, and brought it back to his bed. He took a sip of it, the scorching heat of it burning the tip of Skwisgaar's tongue, deeming the sensation of it very odd,tingly even, but none the less uncomfortable, he set it down on the nightstand, cursing shortly in retrieved his carton of cigarettes from his back pocket and sat down on top of his still made bed, pulling the second the last one out of the pack and placing it between his lips, making a mental note to pick another pack up soon when they got back into town. Getting his lighter out, he held the flame up to the end of the cigarette, once lit returning the lighter to his pocket. He held the cigarette to his lips with one hand, taking a drag of it, while he reached over with his other arm and retrieved his guitar, placing it in his lap.

Skwisgaar, for next 10 minutes, sat with his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, puffing on it lightly as his fingers darted around the fret, his other hand holding the pick strumming just as quickly, ignoring the twinges of discomfort protesting from them. He was trying to figure out the right chords to play to accompany a song Nathan had just finished up writing lyrics for; it was about fire and people being used to fuel it, Nathan being absolutely inspired by the bonfire they had made out of Magnus's belongings. It was positively _metal_ so Skwisgaar tried making the tempo quick, but took the pitch lower- fire burned things quickly, the pain evoked from it intense and generally long-lasting- which he took this into account while he experimented with the strings.

"It's soundin' pretty good," Skwisgaar looked up from his fingers to see Pickles hovering by the doorway, rubbing his eyes awake.

"I ams thinking we use it for dat song Nathan wrotes about people who ams burnings."

Pickles nodded his head agreeing as he shuffled sleepily over to the coffee pot, kicking a few empty shot bottles, "Yeah, dood, it sounds pretty good, y'should show Nathan..," He started to trail off, pouring himself a cup of coffee that was mostly creamer,no sugar. Skwisgaar set down his guitar next to him and took his final drag out of his almost finished cigarette. It was bitter and burned his lips a little; he stood up and went over to the window. He unlatched the lock and opened it- but only as far as it would let him- which was only about two or three inches wide, which he assumed was an effort to keep from people trying to jump out of them. Cold air started to blow through the crack, making him flick his cigarette butt out quickly just to close the window again.

Skwisgaar made his way back over to the side table, hoping his coffee had cooled down enough to drink, playing with the tip of his tongue which had gone uncomfortably numb from the burn. He brought it up to his lips and took a cautious sat down on his bed again, holding his cup in his hands, letting it warm them. The heat felt nice on the underside of his knuckles, which throbbed from being forced to play. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his mind go blank except for concentrating solely on the heat spreading over his hands.

"Wasn't expecting you to fall asleep so early," Pickles interjected, Skwisgaar opening his eyes to see him taking a seat across from him on the bed Nathan was hanging over on.

"Ja, yesterday ams long day," he sighed, looking down into his cup of coffee, the color deep- almost black. He could nearly see a reflection of himself in it. "Looks like you guys hads funs, what all dids I miss?"

"Naht very much, let's see… mini fridge, booze..Murderface found some porno on the tv. He was being all weird 'bout it, so Nathan gave 'em tha old one-two," Pickles glanced where Murderface was laying,then turned back to Skwisgaar, grinning,"He was so messed up he couldn't even get up, it wasn't anything serious though. He ended up jus' goin' to sleep right 'an and I messed around for a lil' bit, mainly jus' drinkin' and fucking with Murderface. I went tah go use tha restroom, when I came back he was already asleep. I didn't stay up much longer then that,"he stopped, taking a drink out of his cup, then started laughing a bit and nudged his head towards Murderface,"I found a marker before I went to bed , doh."

Skwisgaar smirked widely, bringing the coffee to his lips again, muttering into the cup before taking another sip, "Ja, I had been seeings dat."

There was a momentary silence as they enjoyed a laugh to themselves. Skwisgaar realized he had this interaction with nearly everyone, words said then quiet reflection. He rarely had a continuous conversation with anyone without taking a break in between to collect his thoughts. It wasn't that he was watching was he was saying more than it was him watching what _they _were saying.

Pickles was the one to start their conversation back up, with words that shook Skwisgaar a little too easily, "Whadduh 'bout that kid, huh?"

Skwisgaar gave way to silence once again. It was an uncomfortable situation he didn't really want to get into just yet; after having a good nights rest, he started to resent ,partially, deciding he wouldn't be the only guitarist for Dethklok. He momentarily forgot about everything, just focusing on the fact of there being another guitarist. But gradually, his brain started to piece things back together, his mind now rushing towards memories of messy brown hair, bright hyaline blue eyes, _delicate_,thin lips where grateful words flooded out and expressed uncertainty even when grinning that boyish smile. A face he had just seen for what was the first time yesterday,and yet he had already memorized so many things about it- a face that he had momentarily forgotten; it flashed back inside his mind, and it wasn't just _some guitarist's_ face, it was that of a boy named Toki.

Why had everyone been asking _him _about the kid?..._Probably_ because it was _him_ who let the kid in the band...but _still._

Luckily, before he had to think up some sort of response a incoherent grumble came from Nathan, face muffled by the side of the bed. This caught the attention of both Pickles and Skwisgaar, both turning their heads to look as Nathan slowly and stiffly pushed himself by his arms back on the bed, groaning unpleasantly as he sat up and rolled his shoulders back, attempting to stretch out.

"My fucking back..,"he growled, "What the fuck!" He snapped, but abruptly lost all his edge when he realized he was throwing a fit in front of the others,who were now staring blankly at him. He rubbed the back of his head,looking slightly embarrassed.

"Hej, " Skwisgaar said, in attempt to change the subject," ams got dat guitar part done I am thinkings. When we gets back to de apartskaments I shows you, ja?"

Nathan nodded slightly, hunching over and resting his arms on his knees," Yeah, uh...that sounds good. Let's get the fuck out of here," He pushed himself onto his feet, turning his back to make way to the bathroom."Wake up the asshole…I'm gonna go wash up."

_That asshole_ meaning Murderface, who was still laying face up on the floor, drool spilling out of the corners of his mouth that hung open. Skwisgaar could hear Nathan turn on the sink in the bathroom, accompanied by the sound of water splashing. He was thoroughly relieved that Nathan was up, he knew that as soon as Nathan got up he'd be ready to hit the road and head back to their apartment. Shocking as it would be to people to believe, Skwisgaar got homesick very easily. He wanted to surrounded with familiarity, things he understood. It would explain a lot why he did the same thing really wherever he went: he would loom, he would play his guitar, he would fuck, he would get under the influence of something, he'd even try to lay low, but for some reason people , different people, who did different things would always find him and wanted him to be apart of them, doing things _they_ usually did. He didn't mind the attention, but he generally didn't care to do things differently. He liked the things he knew, with few exceptions. He was the one who showed them _his_ world, not the other way around. Maybe it was for the act of pure dominance, but he did not like feeling open or liked what he knew, and what he knew, he did well. The only thing that ever softened these feelings was some sort of pill, or something to snort, or a shot of this or that- these things made him more open, momentarily. That's why, now, sitting in the hotel close to being utterly sober, he longed for nothing more than to go back to where his home was, get out of this building and into the car that would take him back there.

"Hey! Murderface ! Hey!" Pickles was standing over Murderface, bent slightly over, snapping his fingers in front of his face. It was no use, Murderface still snorting away in his sleep. Pickles raised his head to look at Skwisgaar,silently asking for help.

"Hej! Moidaface!" Skwisgaar hollered , as he reached for one of the pillows on the bed and sent it launching at the sleeping man. Pickles moved back to dodge it slightly, and it hit Murderface square in the well..._face._ Pickles giggled quietly backing up as Murderface shot right up, pillow falling off him in the process. He rubbed at his face unconsciously, his sweaty palms smearing the ink on his face slightly. Pickles looked up at Nathan who was now standing in the hallway to the bathroom, leaning against the doorway. He nudged his head backward , signally to Pickles the bathroom was all his.

Pickles passed his way into the bathroom, the running faucet filling their room with noise again. Murderface grumbled slightly rubbing at his eyes now, as Nathan made his way next to Skwisgaar between the two beds. Murderface finally took his hands away from his eyes, which were even smaller than usual due to sleep, and stared dumbly back and forth from Skwisgaar to Nathan.

"Hey...Murderface, you uh...hah..you got a little something on your face," Nathan said, hinting now at the dingy ink smears, which just added another point to his already dirty image.

"Yeah, itsch called a...uh.. a facshe?" He shot back obnoxiously, playing dumb.

This made Skwisgaar scoff in laughter. Murderface got up and attempt to straighten out his clothes, which were eternally wrinkled. Skwisgaar finished his coffee and went over to toss it in the trash, and it felt weird only seeing his single coffee cup in the trash compared to the bottles that littered the floor. He heard the faucet shut off, Pickles showing up in the room with them moments later. Skwisgaar couldn't help being as relieved as he was; they were going home.

The ride back to their town was generally very peaceful, even though heavy sounding death metal bellowed through the truck's speakers. Skwisgaar even smoked his last cigarette out of his carton on the way back, and he didn't even mind when he rolled down the window and cold air whipped at his shoulders and cheeks, he just smiled to himself and enjoyed the ride, appreciating silently every building or street they drove past that became even more familiar than the last. When they entered town, it wasn't just a town like the one they had been in yesterday, this was _his_ town.

It was undeniably urban; the sidewalks not the usual slabs of depressingly gray cement, but cobblestone, obscure stores that sold novelty-items were disguised as clean boutiques, bars that even by the looks of them promised a good time with their neon signs not yet lit, sleazy sex shops tucked away behind them, eateries for every palate, bums for every street corner..._this_ was home.

They lived not too far off the beating path of the town, only three blocks away from the main strip and four away from the water front. By the time they drove through downtown, Skwisgaar already had his hand wrapped around the door handle. Their apartment complex was odd and old, but claimed to be newly renovated. The apartment was on the second floor, and there were only two, the stairway short and made from concrete. They stepped one by one off the stairs onto the walkway, Skwisgaar lingering back momentarily to look out and see the water of the harbor glistening from the morning sunlight, the absolutely freezing wind reminding him the waterfront would still be there when it was warmer out.

Once in the apartment, the first thing Skwisgaar was greeted with was the familiar smell of pot and faintly of the vanilla candles they burned to well...mask the smell of the pot, which clearly weren't doing a very good job. It was dark inside, as always, from the general lack of windows, and the ones that did exist were covered by dark bed sheets. Nathan flicked on the light switch by the door and the room glowed red; they upon moving in had fluorescent light bulbs but it didn't _feel _right, it wasn't metal enough, so they replaced all the lights in the main rooms with dim ones that tinted the place ruby. To the left of the front door was the kitchen, as it usually was, kitchen cabinets with some of the doors to them missing, some not, most of them empty anyways. There was a microwave,but no oven, a fridge but hardly any food, black counter tops that melted into the black walls and black tile floors that ran throughout their apartment. They didn't have a table in the kitchen. Where the kitchen table should have gone laid their band's set: a drum kit, a bass to it's right, a spot for guitar to it's left next to the couch that had been taken over by amps that were thrown onto it, a microphone directly in front of the drums. To the right of the door was a little nook by a large window , which was also covered with a bed sheet to smother the light that would try to come through, which a good family would have used for a breakfast cranny, but it remained an empty,wasted space.

They had a second main room,that contained a arm chair shoved in a corner and another couch against the wall, a television that was probably considered an antique now, and was littered with Murderface's belongings and it's walls were covered in flyers,posters, and ticket stubs. The couch turned into a pull out bed, a lumpy thing that Skwisgaar and Murderface would switch off sleeping on less than a month ago before he had his own room. The second main room had two archways , one that led in through the first room and another one that led to the hallway where the two bedrooms and bathroom were, or if you turned right would lead you back into the kitchen slash band room. They also had a balcony, which actually had a great view of the town as well as a bit of the water at the end of the hallway.

Overall, the apartment had seen better days, it seemed to be falling apart on them, or maybe it was them making _it _fall apart, Skwisgaar wasn't exactly sure. All he knew, was that he was finally back where he belonged. Sure, it probably could use a good clean and a little fixing up- _sure_, hot water ran out quick and the neighbors complained of them playing 'loud music', but there was no where else he could think of wanting to be. It was their kingdom, 'Mordhaus' they jokingly called in one night in a drunken stupor after watching a viking movie off their all-too-small television - and the name just kind of stuck. By the end of that night they had it sprawled above their front door in black spray paint.

Pickles sighed in a way that sounded happy, patting a hand over his drum set's cymbals. They rattled back at him, if almost welcoming him home. Skwisgaar lingered around in the band room with them, Nathan digging through the fridge for food, but only finding cheap canned beer which he settled on. Murderface eventually announced he was going to go to nap, flopping onto the couch in the TV then it was just Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Pickles standing around sharing a joint Pickles had seemingly pulled out of no where- which was just a Pickles thing to do.

Skwisgaar ended up showing Nathan the tempo he had come up with for the new song, his guitar plugged into the amps, volume up loud so they heavy melody bounced and echoed off the walls. If anyone was still sleeping in any of the apartments near theirs, they were certainly awake now.

"So's...I am thinkings I does dis.." Skwisgaar said, his voice raised to be heard over his guitar, fingers flying around the neck of his guitar, strumming furiously, " durings the mains parts, until des breaks, then ams thinking of doing this.."

His tempo switched with a strum of the strings, now playing something that sounded slower, his fingertips pressed sharply down on the tempo was sharp and but the chords somehow sounded like they melted into each other. Then, the notes started to pick up, getting faster, the pitch escalating higher but nonetheless still fluid. The sound was stunning, contradictory, a graceful rage; he was not rumored to be a guitar god for nothing.

His fingers stopped moving, and he pulled the guitar strap over his head, still holding the neck of his guitar he asked, "So .. ja..what ams you t'inkings about dats?"

"Metal. I like it...uh a lot actually. Yeah, ...do that." Nathan grumbled, nodding to himself, cracking open another can of beer, which they had moved onto after the joint, and took a big chug out of it.

"Hey,"Pickles said between his sips of his own beer, glancing around the room, "where are we gonna put him?"

"Uh…_him_?"

Pickles shot Nathan another look, an eyebrow raised at him in question, then gave him a smirk once he realized Nathan had caught on. Now all of them glanced around the room, in hopes to find some sort of answer.

Pickles took a seat on his drummer's stool, sipping at his beer, eyes bloodshot from the joint ," Well, I don't think Murderface is gonna share dat room with him, so dats out..."

Nathan groaned, downing half of his beer in one drink. When he pulled his mouth away from it he opened his mouth to speak, then paused. When he finally spoke, he growled, " He's the bass, he does what we tell him to."

Skwisgaar and Pickles erupted in small hiccups of laughter. Skwisgaar's mind was flighty and his eyes shifted around the room, _searching_. Because the apartment was generally small, and most of it's room already taken up, there was just enough space for the four of them. When Magnus was in the band, the apartment always felt a little too busy and cramped, with only four of them there was just enough breathing room- even though they're apartment was honestly still crowded as hell with _just them_.

Skwisgaar sighed and set his guitar down on the stand, his body now being taken under from the pot and his limbs started to succumb to the heavy feeling. He sat down on the edge of the couch, since the space _on_ it was taken up by multiple amplifiers. He leaned back, his shoulders finally meeting the wall and he closed his eyes. He felt cold and warm at the same time. Cold from the lack of heating in the apartment, warm on the inside of his skin, blood flowing and flowing , brain getting ever so slightly foggier. He was glad to be back.

If Pickles and Nathan continued their discussion, Skwisgaar could not say, he had already drifted off to a thoughtless sleep, just darkness on the underside of his lids, pulling him deeper. When he awoke, his neck ached from the angle of his sleeping position, his back strained as well. He sat up stiffly and attempted to stretch his way out of his soreness. The apartment was quiet, only a soft static hum of the television in the other room. Everything in the apartment was just in the exact place they left it, except for a few more beer cans standing up on the floor from his band mates. He stiffly made his way over to the sink, reaching up into the cabinet above it, hand searching but eyes fixated on the water pouring out of the faucet. He gripped something in a mug shape and pulled it down, filling it up with water and drank from it without hesitation. His throat was sore from the joint, his mouth as dry as sand. He turned the faucet off and mug in hand, retreated to his room, the last room down the hall on the right, right next to the balcony door. On his way, he passed by the second archway of the tv room, where the other three members of the band were sprawled out, napping, Nathan in the armchair, Pickles on the floor with a pillow cushion tucked under his head. The tv was on a horrible excuse for a channel, the connection nearly lost and static taking up three-fourths of the screen.

Skwisgaar's room was a bit different than the others. The closet was on the wall to his left had it's own wall which was at a slant that connected into the other four. The wall directly in cross from the door had a large window built into it, but instead of blankets to cover it like the rest of the rooms, there were a pair of draw-up shades covering them, the shades down all the way but shifted into letting little lines of light through. His bed was on the left wall, turned to face the right wall. In between his bed and the window, he had a small side table with drawers, on top of it a large white candle with dried wax dripping down it's sides. On the left side of his bed laid another guitar stand, and in between the edge of his bed and the right wall he had a rug which was large and fluffy. He had the same black tile the rest of the apartment did, but the walls were a flat,dark gray color. His bedspread and pillows were bright white, not even a twinge of dullness to them. He had a hamper in the corner and a trash can under his side was no light switch in his room, the only light source remained on the window and the candle by his bed. His room was extremely minimalistic, but what he had he took pride in, even spending a bit of his own money here and there to fix things up. His room was always clean,probably because he didn't have enough things to dirty it with.

His room was filled with cold air as he entered it, and the light coming through the cracks in the shades indicated he had slept quite a bit, the sun looked on the verge of dusk now. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, pressing a button to light it up. 4:37. _Shit._ He had nearly slept most of his day away. This just meant he'd have to make up for it tonight. He started pulling off his clothes, enjoying the feeling of fabric departing from his skin. Naked, he strutted over to his closet, pulling it open. He got dressed in a snug fitting white turtleneck to warn off the cold and another pair of tight white jeans, skipping the underwear as always. He fastened his belt once again and slipped his feet into socks and then his white boots. He shut the closet and filled his pockets back up: lighter, phone,_guitar pick_. Then he walked over between his bed and the window, and opened up one of the drawers on his side table. He pulled out his wallet and slipped it into the pocket where a carton of cigarettes usually were. He closed the drawer, and left his bedroom. He went into the room next door which was the restroom. It was the only room in the house that wasn't exceptionally dark, or bathed in red light. It had a weird diamond shaped tub in the corner that doubled as a shower. The walls were half white tile, half light grey, the floor the same old black tile as always. Other than that it was a normal bathroom, with a counter,sink, and toilet. Nothing to look twice at.

Skwisgaar turned the warm water on and waited for it to warm up, in the meantime brushing his teeth thoroughly. After finishing with his teeth and rinsing out his mouth, he bent over the sink and splashed his face down with the water, then shutting it off. With his eyes closed he reached for the hand towel, finding it and patted his face off, setting it down on the counter. He watched himself in the mirror as he retrieved a hair tie from the drawer and fastened his hair back in it. He thought he looked a lot better then he had this morning, the dark rings only faintly there now, his thin body frame only enhanced by the sweater, his complexion and hair _healthier. _He left the bathroom behind and went to the front door of the apartment grabbing a ring of keys off a hook and letting himself out of the apartment, locking the door behind him. He made his way back down the stairs, taking in the view of the ever reddening sun glint against the water, the sky rolling in with gray clouds overhead.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he grabbed for his phone and started to send out text message to someone's number that had not been saved into his contacts: _Brass anchor at 7. _He sent the text out not expecting a reply, the person receiving it would know exactly what it meant. With that he tucked the phone back in his pocket and started to make his way through the blocks of the town, heading towards the main street. He walked in no rush and longed for a cigarette, a headache nudging at him gently. He stopped at a crosswalk, and while waiting for his right of way, he received a howl from a group of girls with the car windows rolled down, as they drove past him. He shot them one of his classic smirks, his lip ever so slightly curled, one eyebrow raised, a hand tucked back into one of his pockets.

By the time he had reached the tobacco store, the sun was on it's way down past the buildings of the town, casting long shadows on the streets. Skwisgaar was happy he had worn a sweater, the temperature dropping without hesitation. The door sent out a chime as he entered the small store, and he wasted no time making his way to the counter and handing over a good five or six dollars for a carton of cigarettes his body was demanding for. Afterwards he continued on his walk deeper into the city, the sound of his boots echoing against the cobblestone beneath him, cold wind on his cheeks and warm smoke between his lips. He gazed around, the street lamps lit up and he gazed in at the boutiques he had seen a hundred times that were now ringing up their last customers, or bored teenagers slumped over cash registers waiting for closing time so they could go out and get fucked up at a friends house like everyone else on a Saturday night. The street performers started to come out, Skwisgaar had already passed a man playing a saxophone in front of an alleyway between two stores and a man singing on the corner, and the restaurants and bars were starting to get crowded, people lingering outside of them waiting for a spot. Skwisgaar received a lot of looks while passing them.

By the time he had reached his destination the sun was almost set and he had chain smoked 3 cigarettes. He entered the small,moody looking bar with small worn down letters on the front of it that read _The Brass Anchor _. The inside of the bar was just as off-putting as the outside, the walls in deep gothic style wallpaper, worn down dark hard wood floors, dark foggy windows in the front. It glowed with in teal mood lighting, it had a large rounded bar with stools and small round tables too close to each other with one or two seats to each of them, looking utterly claustrophobic. There was a small part tucked in the corner where a guy was playing live acoustic guitar and whining slowly over the mic on a stool, Skwisgaar catching every missed note a mile away. This made him scoff as he made his way over to one of the stools by the bar, this time, unlike the woman bartender last night, it was a man who he saw at least two or three nights a week working at the bar as usual. He was in his early fifties or so, hair cropped short to his head and it dyed deep purple, he had a nose ring and glasses. Everyone called him Scurvy who knew him well enough, and Skwisgaar was one of them.

The man raised his head from drying a beer glass and looked at Skwisgaar , nodding his head towards to live performer and rolled his eyes, "You know..sometimes I regret having open mic night," he said loudly, not caring who heard, but directed it the words to Skwisgaar. This made Skwisgaar chuckle deeply, and take another glance at the man performing. He was, without doubt, a _dildo. _"Scurvy" set down the mug and grabbed a small glass from the rack and pulled two bottles off the shelving unit, setting the glass down in front of Skwisgaar and tipped both bottles over, letting the liquids stream into it, mixing them together. " Thought this one up today," he said , sliding it over closer to Skwisgaar,"give it a try."

The color of it was indigo, which popped against the dark wooded bar. Skwisgaar picked up the glass and examined it, then took a sip of it and tasted it before taking the rest of the glass down in one shot. It was fruity, like oranges but not extremely sweet. There was another flavor he recognized but couldn't put a finger on. The color of the drink was enough to intrigue him, but the flavor sent him over. The remnants of the flavor stuck in his mouth and he rolled it around on his tongue, finally he came back to Scurvy, who was eying him.

"What...what _ams _dis?" Skwisgaar held up the empty glass, tipping it slightly around.

"Half kurant vodka, the other half blue curacao. Do you like it?" Scurvy was busy drying another mug.

"Ja..ja, prettys good." He set down the empty glass on the counter, after tipping it back one more time into his mouth to get the very last drop." Hej, what ams the time?"

"Uhhh…around six, six-thirty or so."

"You ams thinkings I gots enough time to get dildos off the stage?" Skwisgaar was grinning a fucked up smile, mainly driven from the annoyance of the performer. The other portion just being him.

"You have my blessing," laughed Scurvy over his shoulder, turning to help out a couple grungy looking guys who sat down at the counter.

Skwisgaar wasn't new to this bar, in fact, he was regular. Him performing was the bar's main source of entertainment a lot of the time, saving it from weirdos like the performer tonight who would take advantage of open mic. People actually showed up to the bar to see him play when they knew Skwisgaar was going to be performing in advanced, and sometimes he would just show up and bless them by surprise. It started when he showed up out of random when they first moved into the apartment, Skwisgaar went wandering around for a good place to drink and stumbled in, saw the acoustic guitar and mic in the corner. It was just another open mic night for the bar until he started to play, by the time Skwisgaar was done the place had a full house, people walking on the streets stopping in just to see where the music was coming from. When Skwisgaar went to the bar for a drink, Scurvy slid him a few crisp twenties over the bar counter and asked him what time he'd be back next week and it was a done deal. It gave him something to do, and plus it gave him a bit of extra cash on the side. Sometimes he'd just stop by to hang out and have drinks, and sometimes catch another performer- none of them any good compared to him. But on nights like tonight, when "performers" were especially bad, he would go ahead and take over, partially to protect the bar's image , partially because he couldn't listen to another second of it. He was waiting here anyways, so why not have some fun in the process?

He slipped away from the bar and guided his way in between the cramped tables and chairs, scattered with people here and there. He made his way up to the man performing, who was in mid song and interrupted him in a middle of whining out a note in a tone men shouldn't be able to make.

"Yous, " Skwisgaar said right in front of him,his voice echoing through the mic, the man loosing track of his singing and playing to look up through his straggly black hair at the god standing before him," does yourselfs a favor ands lets me sees de guitars."

The man went red in the face and looked like he was about to pee himself out of embarrassment. Silently he looked down and stood up from the stool, head down and handed the guitar over to him. The man tried to quickly to escape the scene but the obstacles of chairs and tables sent him flailing clumsily.

Skwisgaar sat down on the stool and adjusted the acoustic guitar on his lap, the one he had played many times in this same exact spot in nights just like these. For the next half an hour or so he sat playing silently, no real song in mind, but sure enough people started to flock through the doors of the bar to take a seat,order a drink, just to listen to him play. And _see _him play. Skwisgaar would every so often look up from his fingers and scan the room for who he was waiting for. He did this a few times before finally catching sight of them. They were in their usual booth, one that was tucked in the corner right in front of one of the dark windows, secluded from the rest. They were watching him play , and Skwisgaar knew this was his cue. He finished out the none-in-particular song he was playing within the next minute. He didn't say a word when he set down the guitar, didn't say a word when the audience he had gathered hollered and clapped, didn't say a word when as making his way out of the maze of chairs when people they would stop him by the arm and tell him how good he was.

Skwisgaar made his way past the bar and into the little cranny the booth was in, knowing all too well he was being watched the whole time. He slipped into the booth and looked across at the person he had been waiting for. Ten minutes later, he was sliding back out of the booth, twenty dollars missing out of his wallet and his pocket a little heavier. As he made his way to the door, Scurvy approached him with once again a few crisp twenties in his hand , gesturing them out towards Skwisgaar, "Thanks for saving my bar, again." He offered a smile.

Skwisgaar shook his head, and pushed open the bar door, wind from outside blowing his ponytail back a bit, he turned and offered a small smile back, "Tonights am how you says, ons the house," and he went out the door.

The walk back to the apartment was quiet one, taking a slightly longer and different route from before. This walk went around the stores and towards the water, walking on the dock all the way back up towards his street. He stopped for a while and took a seat on the bench. He pulled out his carton of cigarettes, counting them. He took one out and held it between his lips, when something caught his eye. Tonight the moon was a huge vessel in the sky, radiating light off it onto the soft curl of waves. He stared at it for a little while, taking in the details of it's craters. He wondered how many werewolves were out tonight jokingly in his head, making himself chuckle. He lit his cigarette and sat on the bench for a while, enjoying the silence away from everything. He let his mind go blank and just tried to enjoy the moment.

He knew what would make him _really_ enjoy the moment. He wanted to get high- no, not high, he wanted to get _smacked. Completely_. He groaned, putting his head in his hands, watching the ash from his cigarette fall to the board beneath him. He started a debate in his mind whether or not he should. He knew the risks, if he didn't tonight he'd start to get the horrible withdrawals back in no time, the ones he had sort of fended off the past two days by smoking what the other guy's were and a glint of a sexual escapade; if he did get high tonight, he know he'd be undoubtedly a piece of shit tomorrow, he wouldn't wake up in time and he'd be rushed to get ready for the meeting, everyone would know he got really fucked up and he'd be worthless, he'd be cranky, he wouldn't be able to focus…

He let out another groan and brought his head back up and looked straight into the moon. The moon reminded him of something he had seen before, but couldn't put his finger on it. He made up his mind and stood up, continuing on his way to the apartment. Fifteen steps up the stairs,he was on his floor and seven more he was at the door letting himself in. Vanilla scented pot greeted him on the other side. He hung up the keys and saw the rest of his band members standing around the band's kit. Now that the sun was down, it was time to practice. It was one of their favorite fuck you's to the rest of the world, and by now the rest of the apartment complex had either moved out because of them or got used to it, besides the occasional new neighbor who would bang on the wall relentlessly. They practiced for longer than usual, everyone co-operating together, which was a new found glory since Magnus had left. Tonight everyone was on top of their game, and they celebrated by pulling out Pickles bong - which Skwisgaar assumed could probably hold him over til tomorrow,.Murderface only had a ghost of "douche bag" across his upper lip, but it still got everyone laughing in their brain fried state.

It was early in the morning when they retreated to their beds, which _was early_ for their bedtime. Skwisgaar emptied out his pockets on the side table beside his bed: cigarettes, lighter, phone,_guitar pick. _And this time something else too, a small pouch no bigger than the size of his palm, it was black and tied shut. He opened the top drawer to side table and tucked it in somewhere in the back. He stripped down to nothing for the third time today and tossed his clothes in hamper, the chill of his room greeting each inch of his skin. He padded back over to his bed and slid underneath cold crisp sheets, until eventually they warmed up to his body and took him off into sleep.

By ten, as promised , there was a fancy looking cab waiting out front of their apartment for them. All four of them had done the best they could to clean themselves up; they had showered and shaved, deodorized, and put on a clean pair of clothes. The ride to the Crystal Mountain Records was only fifteen minutes or so away, but the drive took them into a completely different part of town. There were large corporate buildings, and men in suits were a dime a dozen. They played a game of punching each other whenever they saw a yellow cab, which fortunately if they saw one and unfortunately if they didn't see it first, was less than every ten seconds. Crystal Mountain Records was among the empire like buildings, large and seemingly made out of glass, large windows surrounding all of it's walls. The inside of the building was minimalistic and clean looking, and the ride up the elevator felt pretty familiar. They were escorted into Roy Cornickleson's office, and when the doors were opened for them, Skwisgaar couldn't quite comprehend what his eyes were seeing.

"Glad to see you made it, boys."

Charles was there, business as always, his documents splayed out on a table neatly, but that wasn't what caught his eyes. Looking out the large windows stood the person Skwisgaar couldn't mistake for anyone else, that _angel in disguise. _His skin was even more milkier than before, assuming it was from finally washing all that street off him. His hair looked like it had been brushed, but it was somehow still messy in all the right places. He was wearing what Skwisgaar assumed to be some hand-me-downs of Charles, even though he had never seen Charles not suited up; a light blue sweater that made his eyes seem that much more brighter, brown pants without a single hole, and what looked like a new pair of slip on checkered sneakers. He had his fanny pack strapped around his waist, but no cap- the fanny pack being _more _then enough for Skwisgaar. He had a hard time trying to think he didn't look almost _cute _like this...he _really_ needed to get a hold of himself.

Roy Cornickleson entered his office shortly after, but if he had to be honest, whatever they had been saying, whatever they had signed, whomever hands they shook, and how long they had been there, Skwisgaar couldn't say; all his attention was completely stolen from him as he found himself sitting on a large white couch, with all that _space_, and Toki was somehow sitting right next to him, and he couldn't help but focus down at Toki's thighs and how _close _they were to almost touching his. The only moment he could remember happening was when Toki left his side to go over to the desk and sign the last of the papers. After that, Roy Cornickleson took Toki's hand in his in a shake saying, "I have a good feeling about this, kid, welcome to the label."

Shortly after, they were in the elevator heading down, this time with Charles and Toki joining them.

"Well, ah, I guess it's time to ask if the apartment is in well enough condition to move Toki in?" Charles didn't look around at them while he asked this, instead he kept his head forward, looking at the elevator doors.

"Uh…yeah I mean...uhhhh," Nathan started to trail off.

"You don't have to worry, I've got this whole schituation under control," Murderface projected.

"Ifs yous don'ts want to be gettings, you knows, ...mads, I wouldn'ts be goings up theres," Skwisgaar confessed. Charles hadn't been up to the apartment in months, and it wasn't even in as good of shape as it was back then.

"Dood!"Pickles exclaimed, accompanied by the groans of Nathan and Murderface.

"Way to go Schkwischgaar, now he knowsch! " Murderface went to hit Skwisgaar in the arm, but Skwisgaar glared back at him in a manner that stopped him dead in his tracks. In the background of all this he could all to clearly pick up the sound small giggles escaping Toki's lips.

Charles sighed, then began nodding, gaze still fixed forward," Thank you for your , ah, honesty, Skwisgaar. Then I'm taking it you don't need any help moving any of Toki's things in?"

More groans from them, then Pickles spoke up, "Nah, we don't need any."

"Well, Toki, ah, come with me to my car and we'll go grab your boxes," Charles said, the elevator door opening into the main floor,"You four, go wait by the cab, and , ah, let them know." He finally looked at them, and received half nods at the most, and like that Charles left with Toki trailing behind him.

The group went through the glass doors out to the front of the building and found their cab, Pickles and Murderface climbing in while Skwisgaar and Nathan hung just outside of it, smoking their first cigarettes of the day.

"It's good that you know...Charles isn't coming up..because I just remembered..we didn't put Pickle's bong up after last night," Nathan said, laughing a little as he exhaled smoke out his nostrils.

Skwisgaar shared the laugh with him, but didn't find any reason to reply, just continued on his cigarette. Not too long later, Charles and Toki came walking back, both with a cardboard box in their arms , and Toki now had his guitar slung over body, towering over him. Skwisgaar could barely make out Toki's head above the box. As they got closer, Skwisgaar tried to keep himself under control, reminding himself in his mind that this was a presence from here on out he had to get used to, and part of him admittedly confessed to himself he didn't mind that all too much. The cab driver popped it's trunk when Charles got close to the car, Toki once again not short behind.

Nathan opened the passenger seat in the cab, getting in; behind the driver and passenger there were two rows of seats, none of them seeing a car like this except when they rode in a cab from the company. Skwisgaar was putting out his cigarette when he looked up to see Toki misplacing his footing, a sudden shift on cracked concrete. It didn't even take his mind a second to process what he had seen, quickly catching Toki as he was on his way down, one arm thrown around his waist and one arm steadying him by his shoulder and bringing him upright. It was such a swift action, that Toki himself acted as if he didn't know what happened, bringing himself up to look back at Skwisgaar , eyes wide like two big moons.._moons.._that's what the moon reminded him of last night. Toki's face began to redden before shifting the box in his arms, and squeaking in his accent with a shy smile, "Deres you ams, saving what ams my lifes again."

Skwisgaar was stricken by Tokis words and there was nothing else to do but turn and get into the car, but Charles voice stopped him momentarily, as he shut the car trunk and Toki made his way back over in Skwisgaar's direction, "Ah, Skwisgaar. Tell the boys I'll be calling in to check up. Make sure you start practicing together, they want us to plan on getting to the studio soon. And take care of, Toki, will you?" Skwisgaar nodded, reaching down and opening up the cab door, motioning for Toki to go in first.

"Ja, wills be tellings them dats. Goodbyes."

"Goodbye."

Skwisgaar let himself in the cab after Toki had gotten settled in the backseat. He couldn't help but watch Toki buckle up into his seat, as the rest of the band refrained from doing so. The cab took no hesitation in taking off, leaving behind all the concrete and glass, as they made their way back into town. The ride back was fairly quiet, but not uncomfortable, everyone with their gaze out a different window taking in the fleeting sights before their ran his fingers back through his hair , taking a chance and glancing over at Toki sitting next to him. He only saw the back of his head, Toki being completely fixated on staring out the window as if he was going to miss anything important. The closer the cab pulled into their town, the thicker and darker the clouds began to crowd above them. As they drove past the docks, he saw out of the corner of his eye Toki's hand come up to window, as if he could touch whatever it was he saw through the glass. It was such a childish thing to do, but never the less made Skwisgaar smirk; it was refreshing to him to see someone act on impulse like that, action without thought.

Pulling up to the apartments ,Skwisgaar already knew it would be him helping Toki with the boxes, the price to pay for ratting them all didn't really mind, they were going to the same place anyways. The box was big but incredibly light, and they started their way up the stairs after the others. Toki was relatively quiet all the way up, following silently behind Skwisgaar until he stopped near the spot Skwisgaar had yesterday, peering out at the water just like he had done himself.

"Oh wowee…" Toki mumbled to himself,setting his box on the rail. Then as if knowing he'd be there, looked up towards Skwisgaar, "You's ever be ams looking at this before?"

Skwisgaar stood there for a moment, staring out past Toki at the water, finally in no rush to go up. He sighed and let out a small smile," Ams nice, ja?" Skwisgaar went down a few steps and rested his box next to Toki's on the rail, standing beside him.

"Yeps..nicest things I has beens seeing in what ams long times…," letting another one of his boyish smiles shine through.

They had been left behind by the others, now not in any rush and just stood there, boxes in their ams, hints of smiles on their face, cold cheeks and hands, as the clouds above them deepened into the color of ashes. They could hear the echos of the water even from here, or maybe they just imagined it.

They stood there for what could've been seconds or minutes,neither of them seeming to care. Skwisgaar finally giving in, he tilted his head slightly to look at Toki, letting his words out lazily, glazed over in Swedish slurrings, " You ams excitekeds?"

Toki nodding his head up and down, understanding Skwisgaar's words better then what seemed like anyone elses, maybe it was because they were both Scandinavian, so his accent wasn't as weird as the others,maybe it was just Skwisgaar hoping it to be that way, he was unsure, he didn't really care, he was just glad to be understood.

"Yeps…," Toki paused and sighed, his eyes finally making their way back to Skwisgaar, "Tells yous a secrets?."

Skwisgaar felt his heart give a little as he saw Toki's expression slowly change into the unsure expression he wore for the majority of the time since meeting, and he wondered if Toki knew that he did it,"Vad är det?" He wanted to make sure whatever secret he was about to hear, Toki would say it in words that he understood better than English. He was Norwegian, _right ?_ And he hoped Toki understood him and took the hint.

Skwisgaar was about to rephrase after no words left Toki's mouth, being slightly frustrated, but all the negative emotions left as Toki leaned forward and rested his cheek on the corner of the box, eyes looking up at him. "Jeg... er nervøs."

_Nervous?_ This made a small chuckle leave Skwisgaar's throat and he steadied the box against his body. He took a chance and took a hand away from the box, bringing it up and placed it softly on top of Toki's head , so unlike the way he was used to, and messed up his hair, which was surprisingly soft. "Let's be ams going, little Tokis."

He knew he left Toki in a bit of a shock, seeing him bite down on those thin lips of his, _don't_. He returned his hand to the box, and started making his way back up the stairs. Soon enough, he heard small sound of footsteps following behind him. The door was left open awaiting their arrival, the other three with cans of beers in their hand, Nathan thrusting the plastic sling towards them that contained two other beers in it. Skwisgaar set the box down by the door, then took the box out of Toki's arms as well setting it on top of the other one, feeling this moment was more important than it seemed. He took hold of the plastic sling and tore out one of the beer's from it, holding it out for Toki. Toki's hand took hold of the can, his fingers unintentionally overlapping Skwisgaar's as they can passed between them. Toki wore a puzzled look on his face as he examined the can, as Skwisgaar released his own beer, cracking open the top. The sound was loud and got Toki's attention, and he mimicked Skwisgaar, pulling the tab open on his own.

"To ,uh...to metal," Nathan pronounced, holding his can up in to the air.

The other four agreed, now joining the front man with their beers before tipping them back to take a long swig. Moments later, Toki was heard sputtering the beer back up, his face twisted into a troubled look, catching everyone's attention.

"What's ams it? Nevers had a beers before?" Skwisgaar's words evoked harmless laughter out of the others. Toki look at Skwisgaar again in questioning, then switched to something close to determination, his hand wrapped tightly around the beer can, it crumpling slightly under the pressure of his fingers. The others watched as Toki threw his head back and chugged the beer down, but Skwisgaar was surely the only one who watched the liquid trickle out of the corner of Toki's mouth while doing so, tracing with his eyes as it leaked down his neck in a thin stream and slowed down the further it went.

"Whoa, kid! Take it easy, okay? " Pickles stepped forth, patting Toki gently on the side of his arm.

"Yeah, it ischn't a competitschion."

Toki blushed hard and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand,but kept the look of intent strong on his face. Skwisgaar saw the amusement painted across his band mates faces towards Toki, then let his lips curl slightly upwards themselves.

"So hey uh.. we don't have anywhere to put you," Nathan said before taking a sip, then continued again," But hey, what about here?" Nathan gestured to the unused nook to their right. It was a small space only 6 or 7 feet wide, in between laying a huge window that out looked _who knows what_, it had been forever since they had taken the makeshift curtains down.

Skwisgaar didn't know how Nathan and the other's had thought this up, but now as he looked at it, with a little effort it would work out just fine. Toki didn't seem to mind at all, and he made his way over to it and raised up the bed sheet up off the window, suddenly soft light from the cloudy weather outside leaking through the window. He looked back at them and Skwisgaar caught sight of a him having an expression that looked like he felt luckier than a child on Christmas- even though in actuality he wouldn't even be having his own room or bed, a smaller space than any of the others and sadly somehow even less-extravagant, if that even existed. Toki smiled for _strange _reasons, and Skwisgaar couldn't help but feel curious what went on in his mind. No doubt it was very different than the thoughts that ran through his took the guitar case off his back and set it down against one of the corners of the nook and beamed at the sight. It almost seemed as if this was the act of Toki claiming the spot as his own.

Nathan motioned Toki back over, in which Toki obeyed, coming close into to him. Skwisgaar stood back, leaning against the wall, sipping at his beer which he wished was something else _other_ than beer. Nathan pointed around the apartment, "This is uh.. obviously the band room, where practice… don't fuck up any of the stuff or we'll fucking kill you," he pointed back to the kitchen," the fridge but, uh you won't find much in there," to the archway that led into the other living room,"that's the TV room, you know...the thing you watch shit on?" He questioned at Toki, but went back to his _tour_ of the apartment," anyways, don't break the TV or..you know the drill, we'll fucking kill you, Murderface sleeps in there." He guided his points down the hallway again " Those are where the rest of our bedrooms are, Skwisgaar's is the closest to the balcony, bathroom is in the middle, then mine and Pickles."

Toki was hanging on each and every single word's that left Nathan's mouth,the tone actually sounding less threatening as the words themselves. Nathan gave another questioning look, this time receiving a nod back.

"Skwisgaar, uh… you wanted the kid, you get to help him unpack," Nathan said, making an excuse for him to go do something else. Skwisgaar felt Nathan's silent plea to not have to do anything, and he too, gave Nathan a nod. "Okay..uh...I'm gonna go watch TV."

With the chiming in on the other two , the three other men left towards the television, leaving Toki and Skwisgaar standing there. In some ways, he was almost glad he got stuck helping him unpack but tried to make himself cringe at the thought. He couldn't.

Skwisgaar pushed himself off of the wall and set his half empty beer it down on the floor. He went to Toki's boxes and lifted it over near where Toki would be sleeping, as Toki went to the other one and slid it over. The first box ended up containing more of what he assumed were Charles hand-me-downs, which were varied in different colors and textures, all of them neatly folded into a tidy stack, which Skwisgaar made sure not to disrupt as he examined the other items in the box. It also contained packaged plastic bags of underwear and socks, and stick of deodorant, making him realize that Charles had went out and bought these things for Toki. Toki pulled open the other box and took out a rollout mattress and a set of sheets , along with a pillow, all of it still in it's plastic wrapping.

They spent the next 10 minutes setting up Toki's "room" exchanging agreements on how to set it up. As they were putting the sheets on the thin mattress together, Skwisgaar asked, "Sos, Charles ams be the ones to get you dese?"

"Yeps,he's even let's me tag around. Letting me pick out my owns stuffs, he ams being one of them real cools pals," giggled Toki, letting out another grin, as he tucked the elastic band under the mattress. Skwisgaar looked down, now realizing the sheet had a pattern of small stars and rockets on them- how he didn't see them before, he had _no _idea. Toki then took the mattress and slid it over into the wall, right underneath the window. He looked back up at the bed sheets covering it , "Can I take this off the vindu?" He reached and took the sheet between his fingers , feeling the fabric between them.

"It ams beings called a _window _, Tokis."

"Vin..vinsdow?"

"_Window. _And ja, ams supposing that be okays," Skwisgaar tossed the pillow onto the bed and slid the box of clothes over to the small space in the right corner.

Toki struggled as he tried to reach the top of the sheet, shy a good foot or so. Skwisgaar mused at this, the sad attempt to be independant. Toki being young or not have him no excuse, Skwisgaar since his teens was always able to reach everything because of his staggering height. He made his way over to the window, close enough to Toki to get his attention, as he effortlessly reached up and untacked the doubled over sheets from above the window in a matter of seconds, the light coming in from the window battling with the red glow everywhere else in the room.

Skwisgaar took a few steps back, looking at how different the room looked even with the small hint of light pouring in through the forever dirty window. It was already different _enough_ having the area in the apartment that had never been used to, well, _be used. _He was apathetic towards the light itself, but he knew the other bandmates would disapprove of the lighting, it wasn't _metal. _He looked around, and then realised the sheet and tacks in his hands. Thinking quickly he reach upwards and tacked one end close to the right wall into the ceiling, walking across and doing the same on the left. The dark sheet draped down over the entirety of the breakfast nook-turned- bedroom, with it completely snuffing the light from the window out and ultimately Toki's presence.

The sheet pulled up and Toki ducked underneath it smiling, chirping quietly in his native tongue as he examined Skwisgaar's ingenious idea. He started to crave a cigarette while he watched Toki pop in and out from the curtain a few more times, and reached into his pocket for his carton. In mid-action he was surprised as toned,thin arms flung around him for the second time in his life, disrupting his train of thought.

"Takks," Toki's voice escaped near Skwisgaar's chest, quiet and happy.

It was the same pair of arms he felt for the rest of the day, long after they stopped embracing him. They were the same pair of arms he felt around him as he retreated into his room that night, the same pair of arms as he fished through his drawer and found the black pouch he was looking for. He felt them as he heated up the bottom of the spoon with his lighter, even when he extracted the clear liquid through a cotton ball with his syringe and tied off his arm, and they wrapped around him even _tighter_ as his blood stopped flowing through it so easily. He felt them as he slipped the needle into his vein, and all the while when he injected the fluid into his system. He felt them as he fell back on his bed , feeling a sensation stronger and better than any orgasm he had ever had, and was taken under. He felt them as he drifted off into blurry unconsciousness. They held him all night long.


	4. Ponies

**A/N:** In good spirit of the holiday season, the next chapter! As always, feed back is greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

It was Christmas. His band mates had gone home to their families, and he couldn't blame them, who wouldn't take advantage of a warm home and an overload of food that was only acceptable a few days out of the year, even if it meant putting up with people they didn't exactly _care_ to see. Skwisgaar hadn't even called his mom, and since he hadn't received any attempts from her either, he assumed this didn't bother her. Christmas wasn't an excuse to momentarily forget the grudge he held for her; Christmas ,honestly, wasn't very much at all. Though, not even these thoughts could distract him from the night he had planned. He was busy brushing his hair out in front of the bathroom mirror, rumpled after an afternoon nap, the rainy weather giving him an excuse to shut himself into the apartment and curl up. Without his band mates there, he didn't even have to worry so much about practicing, even though he never saw it as work anyways.

As he was working the brush through the back of his hair, Toki squeezed his way into the bathroom, the door creaking in the process. Skwisgaar nearly jumped in surprise. He had completely forgotten Toki was still there, especially since the past few days the apartment had fallen absolutely still. In all honesty, this was his first time being around Toki one on one since the day he had moved in, which was almost four weeks ago. Being around him made Skwisgaar feel a certain way he wasn't comfortable with, so he put a great deal into establishing a distance between them, at least until the thoughts had passed. But apparently they hadn't settled down yet, feeling them rise inside him even now as he glanced at Toki's reflection in the mirror, which in return gave him a small but nonetheless cheery from band practice and hanging out around the apartment together as a five-piece, he had been more distant altogether. Between playing at the Brass Anchor more and tending to his newly rejuvenated habit, it was hard to catch him with any downtime. But he was sure no one would really mind his absence, now with Toki there to distract the rest of them, who all seemed pretty entertained with his presence. But now here they stood, both without any distractions.

Toki clutched his towel and a spare change of clothes, eyes fixated at the length of Skwisgaar's hair, the brush coaxing it's way through buttery locks. His eyes could speak for himself, but his lips did anyways, "Your hair ams...wowee..," he awed breathlessly.

"Ja?" Skwisgaar cocked his eyebrow, tipping his head back and shaking his hair out, letting it topple down his back. He ran the brush back through it, "What ams it being?"

"Reallies,_reallies_ long. Ams whats being like the ponni," Toki said giving up a smile and bringing his eyes back to Skwisgaar's face in the mirror.

A _ponni? _Not even a horse, but a pony. What a _child._ Skwisgaar twisted his face in disapproval, bringing the brush out of his hair and resting his hands on the counter. He turned his head slightly to glance over at Toki, who hugged the materials in his arms tighter. Toki's smile melted only slightly, worry starting to emerging to the surface when he realized Skwisgaar's expression.

"Ponies amnst beings metal, Tokis. They ams dildos," Skwisgaar lectured at him, realizing all too well the blush of embarrassment edging it's way over Toki's cheeks, which he instantly tried to ignore and decided to distract himself by going back to brushing his hair again. If it were any other person and any other situation, Skwisgaar wouldn't of had to think twice about further inflicting humiliation on them, in fact he would have enjoyed it a lot, but he quickly reminded himself this was then felt slightly bad for shunning him, even though what he had said had been immensely stupid, yet somehow even _charming_, if he even let himself admit it.

He felt Toki's eyes all over him, and while he welcomed this of others, feeling it now was more than enough to make him uncomfortable. Skwisgaar felt his own body starting to get hot, his pulse pumping too strong to ignore from the silence that took over the room. But he'd be damned if he let what he was feeling on the inside show through, forcing himself to keep his collected exterior.

In an attempt to free himself from his own thoughts, he broke the silence, " How longs ams you been growing yours out fors?"

Skwisgaar looked back at Toki's reflection now, eyeing the strands of Toki's hair which were far too shaggy for their own good. Toki's hair, Skwisgaar had realized by now, was always messy and looked at if it had been a few years shy of a good brushing when he hadn't been hiding it by donning that frumpy cap he seemed all _too_ fond of. The only time he could think of it looking cleaned up was the day at the Crystal Mountain Record meeting and that was seemingly far too long ago for Skwisgaar to actually count. Even though he couldn't vouch for the others of the band always looking their best, Skwisgaar saw little to no potential in them, but when it came to Toki, he almost saw it as a shame, his angelic features always seeming tainted with his boyish effects, _almost_- but somehow found it that much more fascinating.

He caught Toki cocking his head to the side, the flesh of his bottom lip being bitten down on in his thoughts- which Skwisgaar did his best not to pay too much mind to. Toki's eyes glanced about the room, before stopping to answering with a shrug, " Hm… don't thinks ams ever beens thinkings about it."

Skwisgaar blinked at Toki through the mirror, then turned himself around, resting back against the counter, hands holding himself up. He eyed Toki, this time utterly unafraid of the consequences, and studied him for a while. The sudden attention must have taken Toki off guard, Skwisgaar noted, because Toki after a few seconds broke his gaze and looked down at the shitty tile, brunette hair falling around his face.

"You knows," Skwisgaar spoke eventually, his eyes still fixed ," The ladies ams really like it...you knows, the long hairs."

This, as he knew, caught Toki's curiosity,bringing his head up," They ams?"

"Ja, but not just the ladies," Skwisgaar let his head rest at a slant, his hair draping down past his chest.

Toki's eyes widened questioningly at his words," But what ams there if not just the goils?"

Skwisgaar laughed at this, low and soft,"Little Tokis, there ams so much mores than justs the ladies…"

He felt Toki hanging on each one of his words as he trailed off, and mused at it for a good moment before abruptly picking back up," But, it amsnt anything a littles baby dildo likes you ams be needings to know," he smirked, and with that he made his way out of the bathroom, leaving Toki standing there with a disoriented expression.

Satisfied with himself through and through, he found himself in the TV room, remote in hand, flipping past the channels on a screen far too small, though all of them seemed to be playing the same thing- some variation of a Christmas special. He sighed and gave up on trying to finding something different, leaving the TV on but fixing his attention back to combing all the tangles out of his hair, if there _were_ any. He rolled a band off his wrist and fastened his hair back loosely. He preoccupied himself with a chain of cigarettes as he zoned in on the sound of the shower running, too heavy to be the drizzle of the rain outside. He entertained himself by letting smoke in the form of 'O's drift out between his lips, his mind distant, edging towards what he knew all too well was happening in the shower.._.So _distant in fact that he hadn't realized Toki coming in behind him through the archway.

"Oh, wowees...dat ams being reals cool trick!" Toki clapped his hands together, shaking Skwisgaar out of his thoughts.

Skwisgaar regained a bit of his posture and watched as Toki padded his way a few feet away from the TV screen and sat down cross-legged, reminding Skwisgaar slightly how young he probably was. Toki was dressed in a small plain black t-shirt, the shoulders wet from his disheveled,dripping hair, and an odd pair of tight,beige corduroy pants that hit him above his ankles, assuming Toki hadn't quite gotten the hang of washing machines yet and must have shrunken his clothes in the process. He looked like the poster boy for teenagers. He could _smell _him from here, wafts of his clean skin and deodorant filling the air. Skwisgaar continued to form smoke rings in the air, glancing for Toki's reaction on his face, which sure enough was fixed on his 'cool' trick. Skwisgaar couldn't help but lose himself in it, a face so absolutely handsome, yet _delicate_; his nerves nearly went haywire as he focused in on the trickle of water from Toki's hair land on his face and slowly curve over his cheek, this only pulling his attention to how damp Toki's skin looked.

Skwisgaar put his cigarette out on the ashtray on the floor next to his boot, "You ams ever been smokings before?"

Toki was now watching the TV screen, completely distracted, not even so much as turning his head to say," Nopes…"

Skwisgaar looked to the television screen, watching people wearing red and white hats ,as oddly shaped as Toki's, waving to the camera man, grinning and holding up posters that had names written on them that belonged to someone somewhere. People were weird, especially _Christmas _people…

"How far ams Jule?" Toki questioned, his voice showing his amusement at the television.

Skwisgaar let out a small scoff of laughter, leaning back into the sofa, resting his arms behind his head,"Todays."

Toki whipped his head back to Skwisgaar, mouth parted slightly, then back at the TV. He bit down on his lip , looking rather frustrated and Skwisgaar longed to find out what was going on inside his head.

"Cant's believes I misseds it agains…," Toki's voice soft and hardly audible, especially over the loud roars of the people who took over the screen. Skwisgaar watched him drop his head gradually, looking at the screen and his lap, his gaze lowering each time,then he didn't bring his head up at all and start fidgeting with his hands, wringing them.

Skwisgaar sighed at the sight, it being actually almost,_almost_ sad to see. He wondered why it seemed to matter so much to him, after all, Christmas, Jul, _whatever you wanted to call it _didn't seem to serve much purpose . The only thing he found useful about Christmas were the parties, which were usually crowded with lots of women and men alike, showing a bit too much skin for the winter weather in desperation to manifest some sort of last-minute holiday magic as some sad attempt to prove that this year wasn't such a flop after all; Skwisgaar took advantage of these opportunities every year, same idea in mind, different party, it never taking very long at all for him to wind up in some spare bedroom, sprawled out on someone's mattress,his hands behind his head and his cock inside someone who had a bit too much of the spiked eggnog. In fact, these were the same plans he was looking to carry out tonight, at the same party he went to last year, that turned out being a rather enjoyable time. He planned that tonight would be even better, he could just _feel_ it.

But it didn't stop Skwisgaar from wondering what Toki would be up to tonight, he assumed nothing since he didn't even know it was a holiday until seconds ago. He supposed once he left, Toki would probably just retreat back into his makeshift room or maybe spend the night gloomily flipping through the TV stations, watching what he had forgotten. Skwisgaar felt a small rise of sympathy within him, knowing that even though he thought this holiday in particular was nothing to gawk at, it still shouldn't be spent like that, _alone._

"Hej, Tokis...there ams a parties in a bit I ams goings to ," he sighed a little, shocked at his own words falling right out of his mouth, " If you ams wantings to go, I takes you , instead of yous sittings here likes the littles cry babies."

Toki turned his whole body around, his damp hair sending small drops of water flying. Skwisgaar fought off the jump of his nerves as Toki eyed him shyly, speaking quietly, " I ams never beens to a partskies befores…really?"

"Ja," Skwisgaar nodded his head once, and Toki beamed with happiness. He felt a little odd inviting Toki, who had proved himself a little more than odd, but he assumed it couldn't hurt if he tagged along as long as he didn't get in the way. He brought his hand up and pointed at the top of Toki's head, "But you amnst going anys of the wheres untils you ams brushing out dats mess."

"Whats?! What's ams it being wrongs ?"

_Really?_ What wasn't wrong with it. It was practically tangling even when drenched, a sign of pure neglect. Skwisgaar got that Toki was young and had other things to worry about than combing his hair, but Skwisgaar being a bit of a perfectionist himself, kept his hair in good condition _even _in his teenage years. Though, being blessed with his mother's good hair gene did help and minimized the effort needing to be had. And the attention he got from it didn't exactly kill his want to look after it.

"It ams lookings like you never ams brushing it, that's ams what's wrong."

Toki took Skwisgaar off guard though, sticking his tongue out at him, a pale pink tongue barely poking past his thin lips. What a _brat. _It was somehow endearing though, and Skwisgaar allowed himself to openly smile at this, laughing even, if only just a little.

"Comes here, _lilla brat_," Skwisgaar scoffed, reaching down and patting a hand on the bottom part of the couch.

"Varför?" Toki furrowed his brows questioningly.

Skwisgaar brought his other hand up, brush in hand and tilted it slightly at him, in which Toki hesitated until Skwisgaar sneered playfully, "Whats ams it? Lilla _princessa ." _

With that, Toki got up and made his way in front of Skwisgaar,a determined look interrupting his features again, being closer to him then they had in been in days and days and _days, _the thought alone spiking Skwisgaar's body temperature. Skwisgaar beckoned him down to the floor, and Toki obeyed, turning around and seating himself back between Skwisgaar's legs. Skwisgaar's mind started to run a little faster, a little more carelessly, overtaken by the thoughts that regardless if Toki's hair needed care or not, he was down between his legs nonetheless, and he was about to _touch _him, maddeningly platonic or not.

Skwisgaar brought the brush up and began to stroke downwards, but the brush caught in damp,intricate tangles, causing Toki to wince and whine with every few brushes. Even without touching it, Skwisgaar knew this was going to take a while to work them out. He didn't mind exactly, except for when Toki would hiss and he could swear he even heard sniffles coming from him.

"Owie! Skwisgaar, dat ams what makes my head hurts."

"Is littles Tokis cryings? Don'ts be such am dildos. How old ams yous?" Skwisgaar commented, after working his way through an extremely challenging knot.

Not expecting a reply, but getting one anyways, Toki cautiously choked out quietly, " I doesn'ts knows…"

"You amnst be knowing wh-...Ohs."

Skwisgaar's hand halted, brush still intertwined in Toki's hair. It , _of course, _would only make sense that this oblivious kid would have one more thing to be oblivious about, but not knowing your own age irked Skwisgaar deeply. He stewed on these thoughts long and hard, eventually picking his pace back up with his brushing, but altogether being much more gentle with his strokes, coaxing the tangles out instead of forcing, and Toki stopped wincing, his sniffling and whimpers silenced as well.

By the time Skwisgaar had finished, Toki's hair was almost dry. The brush slipped easily through the now silky,hazel colored hair. Skwisgaar felt thoroughly pleased with his handiwork; Toki's hair shined, and though his hair was choppy his ends looked far less torn. Skwisgaar ignored the fact, though, that he had actually been pretty nice to Toki, doing him a favor for him in the first place, but on top of that actually being careful with him. Toki's expression when he turned around and played with the ends of his hair was enough to make Skwisgaar forget about it- was enough to make him forget about nearly everything.

He pulled his eyes away though, fetching his phone from his pocket and flipping it open. He checked the time, eleven past eight. Surely the party had already started up by now. He watched as Toki kept playing with hair, somehow entrancing him to not care too much about the party _at all. _But Skwisgaar could tell Toki was starting to catch on and get a little nervous under such close attention, the warmness in his cheeks showing through, and Toki summoned up enough confidence to connect their eyes.

"Uhm…what ams making you looks at me like dat?" Toki twirling a strand around his finger nervously, unaware of what kind of effect it was having on Skwisgaar. Skwisgaar thanked Odin at this moment for Toki being so absolutely ignorant.

Skwisgaar took this as his cue to stand up, more awkwardly than he would have liked to taking into account Toki was nearly right in front of him, a little weary of his crotch being too close to Toki's head.

" Nej, nothings. We ams leaving soons, so goes gets readies," he called out leaving the room and crossing into his bedroom, he could faintly hear Toki calling back he already was but was too busy getting ready himself to reply.

He opened up his closet, garments in cool,arctic whites and soft greys and creams that took over the majority. He ran his fingers across the various fabrics, softness under his fingertips. He selected a thin,slinky white shirt, that had a large,loose neck hole but clung to his sides, the sleeves long. Skwisgaar smoothed out the front of the shirt against his stomach, reveling in the softness against his skin. He grabbed his worn in leather jacket, slipping it on over. He closed his closet, went over to his small set of drawers and pulled open one of them, fishing through it to find a baggy of tightly rolled joints_. _He opened the bag and grabbed a few of them, placing them in the empty slots in his cigarette carton, _just in case. _He sealed the bag putting it back in it's place in the drawer and headed out his room, motioning for Toki to come from the doorway a few moments later; Toki, as always, following.

The walk behind their apartment and to the party wasn't any longer than fifteen minutes, sharing small exchanges of nonsense to one another as they ventured through the streets, making their way into the more offbeat tracks of the town, city melting into suburbia. Skwisgaar enjoyed Toki's company, which he would have claimed to anyone else but himself as surprising. It wasn't so bad at all, interjecting at things like odd street names and how Toki wasn't wearing anything more than his miniscule black tee, Toki arguing it was much colder in Norway, which led to a small battle between them about their homelands. Skwisgaar didn't even feel the need to smoke on the way there, far too distracted with making small talk and glancing at Toki out of the corner of his eye when he deemed it safe. He felt so warm on the inside, he mused at the thought of not even needing his jacket, but felt embarrassed by his own thoughts and swatted them away.

When they arrived at the place, the house was already a hubbub of activity. Skwisgaar couldn't help but take in Toki's reaction, gawking silently at the music practically _throbbing _out of it's walls, the front door wide open exposing claustrophobia at it's finest. He also couldn't help shooting Toki one of his world's finest smirks. The air inside the place was stuffy, warm, and smelled all too heavily of marijuana, which wasn't the most comfortable contradiction to walk into from the frosty air outside. They made their way further into the party, Skwisgaar leading the way through the cramped bodies with Toki trailing curiously behind. Skwisgaar couldn't help himself from glancing behind him every so often to check if he was still there.

Skwisgaar led him to the open kitchen, where he knew all too well that he could find some variation of generic party people hanging around the abundance of booze on the kitchen table, waiting for someone to spark their interest enough to _really_ get the party started. He caught sight of them, not an ounce of hesitation within him as he made his way over, back straight and head up, his presence catching more than a few people's attention. Every girl in the room swooning over just the sight of him, their boyfriends standing awkwardly and uselessly by, witnessing it all, Skwisgaar _loved_ this.

A guy hunched over the table rose his head up , exposing a few lines a powdery white underneath him and a dusting of it under his nostrils. He grinned animatedly at Skwisgaar , shoving past a girl beside him to throw an arm around Skwisgaar's shoulder.

"_This _is the guy I was telling you about!" He spoke loudly, his other arm flailing about to catch the other's attention. Surely enough, a third of the people crowding around the table had already surrendered their attention to Skwisgaar before their friend had even said anything.

"Hej," Skwisgaar said coolly, nodding his head slightly.

"Was waiting for you to show! Glad you did! Here, have a beer," he said , releasing Skwisgaar to quickly and clumsily reached over the table, fetching him a bottle, knocking over a few in the process.

Skwisgaar cracked it open and took a long drink. It was on the verge of turning lukewarm, but he drank it anyways. He took a quick look back, and nodded his head back to the presence standing idly behind him, " Dat ams Tokis. His first parties, so shows him good time , ja?"

He shot a few looks at the women now hanging over the table. He figured playing Tokis wing man might do the kid some good, maybe if he got laid he wouldn't be so _weird._ It'd also get him out of Skwisgaar's hair so he could go off and have some fun himself.

"Hey Kid!"

The man's shout made Toki jump, Skwisgaar could almost feel it. He felt Toki step a little closer to the table, almost so close to him that he could feel the warmth of his skin at his back. Skwisgaar didn't take any time to take another swig out of his beer in hopes to distract himself.

The man slammed his hand down on the table, and leaned over in their direction, trying to get in Toki's face, " We're gonna have to see some ID, kid," then let out a loud laugh the reminded Skwisgaar of a hyena, stopping abruptly, leaning towards Toki again, "Just kiddin'! Ha, shoulda seen the look on your face, it was all like...what? Ha!"

Skwisgaar smirked but was growing tired of the man's antics quickly, muttering quietly behind him to Toki, "Gör inget dumt, och inte göra något galet...jag ska gå knulla," hoping Toki would get the jist.

With that he raised his can of beer thankfully to the man after grabbing another one from the table, slipping away and venturing back into the crowds of people. Luckier than the rest, the people seemed to part way for him as he went by. Though, he wouldn't of minded some skin on skin contact. It didn't take him longer than a few moments to spot his prey though. Within a minute, the extra beer was placed into her hands by his with a devilish smirk on his face, her friends getting jealous of her sudden attention from this god-like man and headed over to crowd them. Skwisgaar couldn't complain, the more the merrier, maybe he'd get them all into the same room, he was _quite _the multitask-er…

He spent a good twenty minutes or so with them, answering their questions and generally enjoying their advances on him. He always loved making people swoon, and he was sure there was no doubt he was making them practically drip over the sight of him; his hair that they couldn't keep their fingers out of, and his voice that drew them in closer, murmuring words to them that in any other situation would have been extremely indecent but instead invaded their ears in the most exciting way. They were nearly about to drag him off down the hall when Skwisgaar scanned the room; bodies crammed together and grinding, a few sprawled out on the floor underneath them, smoke making everything in sight foggy. His eyes made their way over to the kitchen light, the only one that seemed to be on,and then to the table. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the same group piling around the table, give or take a few more. Out of curiosity he looked for Toki, eventually finding him being towered over by girls who looked like they were in college, hanging on him. Well, that was _certainly _a surprise to Skwisgaar, but really couldn't blame them for taking advantage of him, the look on his face practically begged for it. He was starting to have a weird sense of pride for Toki until he saw one of the girls put a hand on top of his head with a stupid grin on her face, guiding his head down towards the table right above thin,_white lines…_

Skwisgaar mind nearly screamed inside him, nerves on fire as he shoved past the group of girls swarming him, shoved past the crowd of half-naked vessels; before he knew it his fingers were gripped in the back of Toki's shirt, yanking him up from the table and dragging him down the compacted hallway.

He yanked Toki into a dim room and released the back of his shirt, hissing that if there anyone in the room to get out. Sure enough two shadowy figures emerged quickly from what could be made out as a bed and scrambled out the door. He slammed it after them, subduing even more light from the room. He kept his hand on the back of the door for a moment, the room deafeningly quiet except for his breathing. Skwisgaar turned around slowly, his pulse still racing throughout every limb on his body.

"Whats the fucks...ams you thinkings yous doings?"

He heard his voice, which felt too loud for the room. He waited in silence for a response, which didn't come, only making him more unsteady. He stepped even closer to the outline of Toki's form, which looked more meek and smaller than usual.

"I said what's ams yo-"

"Dey ams saying dat ams stuff what makes me feels goods," his voice cracking pathetically.

Laughter erupted from Skwisgaar without control. Partially because of the scene he had just made but mainly because of Toki. He laughed even harder when he realized how much he probably freaked Toki out, having to place his hand back against the wall for balance.

"Tokis," he sighed, emerging from his outbreak. He pushed off the wall with his hand, and stepped towards Toki again, leaning down close to his ear. Skwisgaar silently hoped he didn't come off too strong, but after the last few minutes, he assumed he had already crossed that line.

He could feel Toki jump in surprise at the sudden closeness,"What's?"

Skwisgaar lowered his voice to a hush, speaking clearly in Toki's ear, " If the littles Tokis am wantings to feels goods, den he should just comes to me."

Skwisgaar gestured to the bed, but Toki waited for him to go over to it first before taking a seat. The music pumping in the background started back up and seemed to rattle the walls all around them, Skwisgaar digging into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes. He withdrew a long,clean joint and held it in front of Toki's eyes, which seemed to glow in the faint light of the bedroom. Skwisgaar smirked when he made out Toki's expression that had transformed into something shy at the sight of the joint.

"Wells…?" Skwisgaar pulled out his lighter with his other hand, still waiting for Toki to take the joint from his, scoffing,"What ams you watings for? You's wants to snorts de cracks but don'ts wants to smoke?"

Toki was silent for a moment, Skwisgaar deciding not to push it and waited for his reply patiently. Finally, it came.

"I's never be doings what ams drugs befores."

Skwisgaar inhaled abruptly and chuckled at Toki once more," Oh, dats too cutes."

He let himself laugh for a bit longer, then silence fell between them once again. Skwisgaar let himself look at Toki a bit more confidently, hoping the lack of light in the room would mask his actions. He shook his head slightly and checked to see if Toki's eyes were on him as well. They were, and it made him feel more triumphant than ever.

"I shows you, littles Tokis," and he scooted a little closer, holding the joint up to Toki's lips, which he gingerly accepted it between them. Toki's eyes stayed locked on Skwisgaar's, waiting for him to make the next move, which Skwisgaar appreciated. He flicked his lighter and brought it to the end of the joint, sending the tip to burn into ashes and a flickering orange bud to form at the end of it.

"Nows, relax ands…," Skwisgaar could feel his body leaning in further towards him, resting his hand on the bed in between them for balance, his voice coaching him in a hushed,low tone, "pulls de smoke into yous lungs...ja dats its, now holds it, and…"

His eyes fixated on the owlish look on Toki's face, even through the darkness being able to see the blush rise up to his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. He watched Toki's adam's apple bob as he struggled to keep the smoke down and failing, breaking into a fit of small,chirpy coughs as he held at his throat, eyes shut tight to hide those forever blue orbs. He was doubled over,hair fraying over his face, fingers twitching around the joint.

"Wells," Skwisgaar interrupted, shifting on the bed and deciding to lean back insteads," Yous almost hads it, but dis stuff amnst the best fors de babies to be smokings."

This sent Toki's coughing to halt, bringing his head up quickly sending his hair launching off his face. He took a deep breath, voice speaking hoarsely, " Ams not whats be de babies, Skwisgaar."

Skwisgaar allowed himself to smirk, bringing a long limb towards Toki,pinching the joint and taking it from him, bringing it to his own lips and taking it like a pro, years of practice paying off. He couldn't help but revel in Toki's attentiveness when it came to watching him, as if he was searching for some sort of shortcut.

Skwisgaar brought his head back, exhaling into the air and held the joint back out to Toki,"Tries agains."

They spent a good while together, passing the joint back and forth between them, Skwisgaar trying to teach Toki how to smoke properly, but Toki, after being stoned off his very first drag of it, started to become more and more incoherent as the minutes passed by them. After thirty minutes, Skwisgaar was slumping into the bed, resting on his elbows as Toki seated at the corner of the bed,back straight, fingers pulling at the bedspread's threads, eyes half lidded. He looked as if his mind was in outer space, _light years_ away.

Toki suddenly brought his head up, letting it roll to the side slightly, eyes fixated on Skwisgaar, who was busy smoking another joint, which he didn't offer to Toki this time, figuring he would already be far too cooked from the small amount he had already had. The look in Toki's eyes now proved it, as he stared all too longley at Skwisgaar, bringing him to sit up a bit more.

"What ams it? Sees somethings you like?"

"I knows what ams to braid," Toki stated , voice sounding far too distant.

"Braids?"

"Yeps. Braid. You knows, de hairs. I ams knowing how to braids de hair. _Flette_?"

Skwisgaar sucked at the joint once more, bringing his eyes over to Toki and cocking his head slightly, "Where is dats coming froms?"

"Wants to does it's to you," his voice shaking, which Skwisgaar couldn't help taking notice of.

Skwisgaar shrugged his shoulders and seconds later,Skwisgaar's hair was down and Toki was behind him, cross-legged once again, fingers in his hair which Skwisgaar couldn't help but admit to himself how _good_ they felt. He felt his hair being lifted off the nape of his neck, and being pulled off into sections, feeling Toki's hands work them into a twisting pattern, pulling his hair in a way that felt good. The moment didn't last long enough for him though, feeling a slight edge of disappointment as he felt the hair band fastening his hair back again.

"Dere," Toki said, voice flighty and he lingered awkwardly behind Skwisgaar once again, seeming like he didn't know what to do with himself now, "Just likes de true vikings. Wows, ams feelings real weird, ams you feels weirds?"

Toki's voice cracked slightly once again, Skwisgaar smirking. He turned around to look at Toki, cocking an eyebrow up at him," Feels good, ja?"

"Ja..ams thinking so, but I feels like...like.."

"Don'ts be thinkings too hard," Skwisgaar was laughing quietly now, putting the small bit of joint out on the underside of his boot, flicking it off somewhere into the darkness.

They sat in the quietness for a little longer, no words said, some shitty house beat still humming outside the door.

"We's goes back out now." Skwisgaar looked towards Toki, who barely could make himself nod, let alone move at all.

They drifted out of the bedroom, Skwisgaar ignoring any of the looks he got for exiting the bedroom with another guy, especially one that looked that young. They were _wrong _anyways, like always. He found himself leading Toki to what was probably the TV room, people filing in and out of it, couples getting naked in the corners. Skwisgaar was starting to feel the edge of his sex drive come back himself, and he mused at the thought of getting touchy with Toki, getting disturbed at his own thoughts and blamed it on the pot. He directed Toki over to an empty slot on the leather couch, a young pair making out ferociously on it. Toki took his spot on the couch, seeming unaware of anyone else even in the room except himself, eyes wide and focused on something far away, falling silent and lost in thought.

Skwisgaar didn't say anything to him as he turned around back to the crowd_, _unable to find the group of girls he had abandoned earlier and feeling slightly regretful. He found himself flirting in the doorway with a girl who kept claiming she was 'super fucked up!', her hands gripping at Skwisgaar's shoulders desperately. She was bobbing to the music, rubbing herself up against him, and he couldn't really complain. He wasn't about to be a Scrooge on Christmas after all.

He drug her down the hallway, back into the room that Toki and him had recently occupied, the room smelling of the pot they just smoked. He didn't even shut the door all the way, even ignoring two other people who were fucking on the far side of the bed, grunting obnoxiously in ecstasy; he had been in weirder situations. She quickly plopped down on the bed, before he had even half way closed the door, fetching a small plastic baggy out of her pocket and shaking it up at him. He gave her a hellish grin as he made his way over to her, ten seconds later a tablet of X dissolving on his tongue, and in another thirty was invading every inch of her. In an hour, the molly he took was fucking his mind, much like his dick in the girl. He couldn't keep his hands from wandering around the top sheet of the bed, his hands plundering their softness as he plundered her depths. She clung tightly to him, fingers grabbing into his braid all too roughly; thoughts of _gentle,_thin fingers working at his hair and pale eyes hidden by soft brunette locks as he came, ripples of euphoria echoing throughout his body. She kept bouncing, but it was nothing a gentle push from his hand couldn't stop. And so he did.

He cleaned himself off with the corner of the bed sheet,zipping the fly of his pants back up; he didn't even take his _boots_ smoothed out his jacket and shirt, and didn't even do as much as look at her as he left.

Skwisgaar walked out of the bedroom feeling smug with himself, and now wasn't too bothered by the thumping bass of the shitty music, could almost feel it inside him. He felt richer than a million bucks, wanted to talk, to grind, tell his story. And he knew just the perfect person for this.

He made his way back to the room where he left Toki in, expecting to find him still zoned out on the couch, so stoned he maybe melted into it, but instead found another person in his place, asleep.

Acting on impulse he walked over and nudged them with the side of his leg, sending them shooting up in their seat but only for a second, quickly rolling their eyes back into their head. He nudged at them once more, raising his voice so he could be heard over the crowd, "Where ams the kid heres before yous?"

They shook their head a little, muffled words barely escaping their mouth before nodding off again into sleep. Skwisgaar deemed it useless to even try, so he started to peer around the room, hoping maybe Toki had moved to one of the other couches, sitting there and waiting for Skwisgaar like the good kid he seemed to be, but he wasn't there. Fear started to cloud Skwisgaar's mind, and pushed his way into the main room. He was thankful for his height, probably being easily the tallest person at the party, and he used it to his advantage, grazing his eyes over the entirety of the room, trying to scope out some sort of glimpse of Toki. Once again, nothing. Skwisgaar even went back to the table, asking if they had seem him, but he quickly realised they hadn't and decided not to stick around to even hear their explanations. The drugs in his system started to turn him into something anxious. He knew he needed to get a hold of himself, he wasn't in the mood for a bad trip now. But he could feel one approaching, his chest tightening ever so slightly as the minutes and tracks over the blaring speakers ticked by. He didn't _do_ the emotional thing, and he definitely didn't want to do it at a party.

Skwisgaar felt the crowd closing in on him and it getting hard to breathe, feeling far too hazy to know how to deal with it beside getting out into the open air, and so that's what he did; the closer he got to the front door the more he felt his chest relaxing, loosening itself up, his lungs grateful. Skwisgaar was quickly out the front door and on the walkway, wanting nothing more than the fresh air, and that's when he saw him.

Spread out with his back against the grass, laid Toki. Skwisgaar's boots squished against the grass, realizing it was soaking wet from either the rain or sprinklers, and the closer he got he realized Toki was too.

"Tokis," Skwisgaar spoke, standing over him, "You tinks dat ams funny hidings like that?"

Toki didn't even blink, even as Skwisgaar stood there waiting for him, but not really knowing what he was waiting for.

"Tokis," he repeated, and nudged him in the side with his boot. He sighed when nothing happened, Toki must've been a lot more smashed then he thought. He crouched down then, arms crossed on top of his knees, voice serious but eyes concerned, "Don't bes a dildos, Tokis. Ams being serious! Ams you in deres?"

This must have pulled Toki out of it, at least enough for him to sit up, the sounds of the damp earth shifting underneath him. He brought his head up and looked at Skwisgaar with a scared sort of sadness reflecting in his eyes, and Skwisgaar couldn't find anything to say. So he let Toki speak.

"Dids you know theys calls it Chriskamases heres…?"

Skwisgaar nodded, and took a few more moments before he pushed himself back up, looming over Toki once more. He sighed and looked at the street, the neighborhood illuminated with lights threaded around the homes and yards. He wondered if the people inside minded them partying so late, wondered what time it was but didn't care to pull out his phone. So, he just stood there, grateful to be out of the stuffy house and to have found Toki.

Toki rose from the lawn, wobbly legged. The whole backside of him soaked to the bone, the back of his hair dripping. Skwisgaar tried not to look so much at him, not wanting to have to deal with the reality of the night. They stood there, Skwisgaar in silence by choice, Toki, he assumed, because pot had a way of doing that to people. He thought Toki would have had a good trip, mainly from witnessing his childish,optimistic antics while living under the same roof, but instead he seemed solemn, quiet, scared and _shaking._Skwisgaar couldn't lie to himself, couldn't convince himself he didn't care either way, _couldn't help_ but think this was partly his fault.

"Hej," he said, still not being able to look Toki in the face so he instead fixed them back on the street," Yous likes Jul? Let's go on ams walks, ja?"

And so they did, down the street away from the party, the music fading further away with every step; through their foggy state of mind, it seemed much more like a memory to Skwisgaar. They worked their way through the maze of neighborhood houses, Toki keeping their pace slow so he could admire every single light on each house, hypnotized by the diffrent colors and shapes. Skwisgaar would just stand off to the side, admiring a sight of his own, but it wasn't at the lights.

The mood seemed to, _thankfully, _lighten. They were far away from the party by now, walked by so many houses that Skwisgaar wondered if they had walked in circles, or if all the houses were slowly becoming the same one. But Toki seemed to be feeling a little better, and so Skwisgaar decided to keep his mouth shut.

"De lights ams så vakker, ja?" Toki asked in a soft tone, as they walked down the quiet street side by side.

Skwisgaar couldn't bring himself to put Toki down for such a sensitive question, so instead he decided to avoid it the best he could, "You ams liking them a lots, ja?"

"Ja, yeps," Toki said,nodding his head up and down . He smiled, but a smile that seemed all too sad as he stopped an marveled at another house, the holiday lights brightening his eyes even more. Finally, he started speaking again, in a voice that sounded directed more to himself then Skwisgaar, " I dids dis last year...but this times ams much betters, more lights, and I ams not beings alone."

Skwisgaar felt his stomach twist slightly at Toki's confession, feeling like it was something that wasn't meant for him to hear, but Toki turned around and gave him a small,sincere smile anyways. Toki turned back to the lights, and the wind picked up, sending a few drops of rain down with it. Skwisgaar looked up at the sky, which seemed lighter than usual from the gray clouds blanketing the night. He felt the drops come down, the first one on his cheek and the second on his neck, before he could keep track they were trickling down all around him.

The wind whipped harshly at their skin, and Skwisgaar cringed slightly. He looked to Toki, who was wrapping his arms around himself, his shoulders quivering under the sudden pick up of rain. Skwisgaar knew that Toki should've worn something other than that crummy t-shirt…

"Tokis, " Skwisgaar called out to him, pulling his leather jacket off of himself.

Toki turned around as Skwisgaar was stepping forward to him, slipping his leather jacket around his shoulders. Skwisgaar could immediately feel the wind and drops of rain find it's way through the fabric of his shirt, but he didn't mind it _so _much. As he finished positioning his jacket over Toki, he raised an eyebrow at him. Toki stood there, expression lost somewhere between confused and blank, his hair dampening more and more as the rain turned into a downpour; Skwisgaar's shirt becoming damp and clinging to skin in an uncomfortable way.

Toki finally looked up at Skwisgaar; he couldn't deny that Toki's face was the most perplexing he had ever saw, somehow _beautiful_ to him nonetheless,but not in the way most would refer to something as being that way. It was unexplainable, Skwisgaar not caring to find the answer so much as he got to look at it a little longer. The front of Toki's hair was sticking to his face, his skin damp, but for some reason he couldn't tell if it was rain or tears trickling down Toki's face.

The sound of rain on pavement grew all around them, robbing them of the silence. Toki's eyes were the one to search Skwisgaar's this time, he could feel them travelling from his eyes and cheeks and lips and back again, searching for some sort of answer. But there was none to be found, and Skwisgaar knew this. He felt like he was being invaded, like he was being looked at for the first time in his life. He also didn't feel so alone. He could try to blame it on the things running through his system all he wanted, but Skwisgaar knew it was a waste of time, this was the exact thing he had tried to keep hidden since Toki showed up weeks ago.

"Ams sads, Skwisgaar," Toki's voice trailed off, searching Skwisgaar's eyes once more.

"I cans fix dats," Skwisgaar paused, glancing around him then bringing himself down closer to Toki, "buts you cant's be goings and freakings out likes littles dildos about ?"

Toki didn't have enough time to answer though, Skwisgaar was already leaning down into him. For the first time in his life, regardless of how many people Skwisgaar had touched,fucked, or fought with, he felt awkward. But he _pushed_ himself past it, as he _pulled_ Toki against him, hearing the soft scuff of Toki's sneakers against the wet pavement.

"Don'ts be sads, littles Tokis, it ams Christmas afters alls."

Skwisgaar heard muffled sniffles coming from his chest, they were Toki's. He didn't know why Toki was crying but he knew he didn't want him to continue. There was nothing else for him to do but put his hand under Toki's chin and lift it up; their eyes looked into each other's for a split second, breaking only when Skwisgaar leaned down and brushed his lips against Toki's forehead. He felt weight against him, Toki practically sinking into his arms.

They stayed like that for a long while, neither of them giving the other some sort of notion they were ready for it to be over. The rain was soaking the city, and houses shutting off their lights, Christmas rolling to an end. Skwisgaar did not kiss Toki again, nor made any attempts to touch him anywhere else. It was just what it was, Skwisgaar making Toki feel better.

After a while though, Skwisgaar realised there were no movements coming from Toki at all, and he pulled Toki back by the shoulders, his head rolling backwards. He had fallen asleep. Skwisgaar thought about shaking him awake, but decided against it. He looked too peaceful, like he had found his happy place again. Skwisgaar had no other choice; he slipped Toki's arms into the jacket and lifted him on to his back, which was extremely difficult without any help from the other, but he managed.

The rain had slowed to a drizzle for the walk home, Skwisgaar carrying Toki on his back all the way. Every once in a while, he could catch an almost silent moan come from Toki, the only thing keeping Skwisgaar from thinking he was dead.

When they got back to the apartment , Skwisgaar carried him all the way inside and over to Toki's bed, pulling the curtain back. He shook Toki on his back, slightly. Sure enough another murmur came from Toki, and silently Skwisgaar lowered Toki off. Toki's shoes met with the floor, and he was still clearly more than half asleep. Skwisgaar realised he must have still been pretty high, because he slipped off his sneakers and crawled on his mattress on the floor, attempting to shimmy out of his pants right in front of Skwisgaar but only getting them down to his knees before falling back helped him pull them down the rest of the way, not letting his eyes wander and turning away quickly after that. Skwisgaar went back through the curtain to the band room, laying the soaking wet pants in the kitchen sink.

The apartment was like an icebox, sending goosebumps to rise all along Skwisgaar's skin, his damp clothes not helping. He tore off his shirt and threw it in the kitchen sink as well. He wrung out his hair over the sink, twisting the braid. A few loose strands had fallen out now, clinging to his face. He then made his way down the hall, and into his bedroom, slipping his boots off beside the door. He went over to his side table and emptied out his pockets, examining them one by one for rain damage, thanking Odin when there wasn't any. He looked at his bed, longing to crawl in and pass out already, it had been too long of a night for him to handle. Instead he reached down and grabbed the large blanket that covered his bed and folded it up in his arms, carrying it back down the hallway and back to Toki's nook.

Skwisgaar took the blanket and laid it across Toki's shivering form, smoothing it out slightly around him. He took a look around what was Toki's room now, just as he had last seen it except the window was open. He went over it and shut it as carefully as he could, in hopes to not wake him. He glanced out the window for a second, which had a pretty nice view of the park and out in the distance a small glimpse of the water. Skwisgaar wondered how many hours Toki had spent sitting in front of it, doing absolutely nothing but watching, just as he was now. Or maybe he played, since Toki's guitar was resting in the corner. He leaned over and picked it up, examining it.

The guitar was a wreck, strings ruined and the body of it damaged, making Skwisgaar wonder how good Toki would sound if he had a proper guitar to play on. He shook his head as he positioned the guitar in his arms, strumming lightly through the strings and hearing every out of tune note. He turned the knobs on the guitar, in attempt to tune it since it sounded like it hadn't been in as long as Toki's hair looked like it hadn't been brushed.

He did as much as he could with tuning the guitar, strumming through the chords once more. It was better than before, but _still _not very good. It was a Flying V, and Skwisgaar wondered where Toki had gotten it from. It looked like it had been taken out of the _dumpster, _but he shook these thoughts when he realised that it could have been more of a reality than he wanted to believe. So instead he did what he did best, casually strumming at the guitar, ignoring the _twang_ that came from the strings. He leaned up against the wall, letting his fingers run over notes Toki's fingers had probably a thousand times. As he looked at Toki though, he felt like playing a different kind of tune, something he had never wanted to play in his whole life. He played it anyways though, and it came out in the form of a lullaby, made only for one pair of ears to hear, and they belonged to Toki.

Skwisgaar smiled at Toki tucked into bed, and he couldn't help thinking to himself that maybe the holiday wasn't so bad after all.

"Merrys Christmases , Tokis."


	5. Luster

**A/N:** This chapter is a little indulgent, but hopefully it's as fun for you to read as it was to write. Feedback is always great help and, well, enjoy!

* * *

"Take five, I'm uh... fucking exhausted," Nathan huffing, setting the mic down and wiping at his forehead.

They had practiced for over an hour, surely disrupting the peace of their neighbors, as always. But Dethklok was hitting the studios in a few days, and they had to be sure that they were absolutely ready; these demo recordings either making or breaking their careers. The rest of them were just as worn out as Nathan, their shirts and hair damp with sweat, they had played harder today than they had in weeks, determined to get just right.

Nathan bent down to look into the fridge, probably for a beer or a bottle of water, but grunting when he was only greeted with a vacant chill.

"Where did all the food go?"

Skwisgaar watched him turn his head back around at them from over his shoulder, trying to find some sort of answer.

"Pffft, good luck. I already looked, dood," Pickles swiveling part way around in his stool behind his drum kit to look back at him, now back to hovering his face in front of the empty shelves of the refrigerator.

It was no secret that they all weren't super well off. Ofdensen did the best he could to give them means to survive, and Skwisgaar couldn't blame him, since they were the ones who spent most of the money he gave them towards booze and means of getting high, paying little thought to the need for food until they had little to no money left for it.

"Well, if you aschk me," Murderface started, receiving a look from Pickles that denied that they were, " if you aschk me, food ish fuel. And how are you schupposed to do anything without fuel in your schyshtem?"

"He's right! Your fucking right! No wonder I'm so...exhausted...I need fuel!"

Nathan shut the door to the fridge and turned back around to the rest of the band, Skwisgaar still picking absentmindedly at the strings of his Explorer.

"I think it's time we...go shopping. I don't want to go but...you know, Murderface could go," Nathan shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the refrigerator.

"I'm honored that you all trusht my exquischite shensche of cuishine, but, uh, I'm not carrying all thosch bagsch by myschelf," Murderface swinging his bass off his shoulder and all too carelessly shoving it into it's holder. The stand teetered for a moment, shifting back and forth on it's pegs. Skwisgaar watched as the sound sent Toki to lift his head, sweat-dampened hair sent back with it, Toki's anticipation settling down once the bass settled into it's stand; bringing the front of his shirt up to his face to wipe off his forehead, exposing a small glimpse of the defined "v" of his hip bones that jutted out from his waist, Skwisgaar turning away all too quickly, face warmer than before. His fingers started to work at a quicker pace on the strings of his guitar, biceps tightening unintentionally.

"I can go wit' ya, or do you want to, Skwisgaar?"

Skwisgaar focused on Pickles, glad to find any reason to keep his eyes off Toki," Ja, ams fine withs that."

"Okay, that works out pretty good actually, Nat'an and I can probably try to teach Toki how 'ta use a washin' machine again," Pickles smirking and nodding his head at Toki, Skwisgaar finally giving in and letting his eyes make their way back over to him. Nathan couldn't help but let out a small scoff of laughter.

Toki clearly hadn't gotten used to using a machine to clean his clothes, most of his clothes being shrunken two or three sizes smaller, once baggy clothes hugging him now all too tightly, which Skwisgaar was having a harder time ignoring as of late. Even now, his black cargo pants shrinking in on his backside, his dumb t-shirt with a fat,yellow smiley face plastered on it exposing a peek of his midriff with the slightest movement. ..Skwisgaar dabbled on this thought too often and without his own consent, questioning what any of this meant to him. He shouldn't be caring about what his band mate was wearing, or how perfectly his _pants hugged in on his…_

"Yeah, Toki, you uh...should _really _learn to wash your clothes," Nathan's voice pulling Skwisgaar out of his own mind, " We'll pick up again uh, later, and Skwisgaar, help Toki with his parts later, we need to make sure these demos are the most brutal,uh ever...ever made..and you're the only one who can really, uh, understand him. Yeah, and don't fucking wreck my car. Or I'll fucking kill you, or something. No joke."

"Yeah, yeah," Murderface rolling his eyes, twirling the lanyard of keys around his thick index finger.

Skwisgaar shrugged himself out from underneath his guitar strap, securing the instrument in it's stand. He followed behind Murderface out of the apartment, and down to Nathan's truck, settling into the passenger seat, no seat belt. He sat waiting on Murderface who was fiddling with the cd player, the seat adjustments, and the rear view mirror before finally pulling out of the parking space, both knowing how irritated Nathan would get but hardly able to contain the smirks they shot one another.

The ride seemed nice to Skwisgaar, boots propped up on the dash, old school metal humming through the speakers, joking with Murderface about the pedestrians they passed on the street, scoffing 'dildos' or 'idiots' whenever necessary,which was often. He actually got along fairly well with Murderface, but he supposed after practically sharing a room together for months and months it was only logical to. Even if at first Skwisgaar was more than a little put off by how peculiar the guy was, they had now grown into something closely resembling a friendship, complete with it's own set of inside jokes and conversations. Skwisgaar appreciated this, getting along with everyone in the band for that matter, which had been a contrast to the other bands he had played in, where witnessing the constant drama between shitty musicians eventually drove him away. He had dreaded the thought of this happening to Dethklok when Magnus started up his shit, but he was pleasantly surprised when they stuck had all stuck together and rid the band of the problem, that being Magnus. And now with Toki, even though just as peculiar as he once found Murderface, it almost seemed complete, as if creating music that would make even Satan himself turn over in his grave was somehow _destiny,_even it seemed a little less than brutal to think.

The pulled into the parking lot and decided between them that maybe they needed a little inspiration for their shopping, toking at the joint passed between them, windows all the way up. Grazing into the grocery store, cold air blasted at them upon entering, which they pondered at in conversation the reason of having as the walked through the aisles, marveling at items that catered to their cravings. The produce section only serving as a playground for their sexual immaturity and a chance to leer at soccer moms picking up pre-package healthy alternative snack packs for their offspring, Skwisgaar being able to talk Murderface up so much that he convinced him to approach one of the very unlucky women, leaving him in the dust in hopes to avoid what ever scene was about to erupt.

He wound upat one of the racks by the cash registers, colorful boxes with just as colorfully wrapped candy stacked inside. He fingered through them, picking a few up and examined them, turning them over in his hands. He read the back label, finding out this one had 10 grams of sugar more than the last, scoffing at the fact something so small could be so fattening. Skwisgaar was never a big sweets person, but this wasn't about him. He was only over here now because of some silly thing Toki had said on New Years.

Charles had come over to the apartment, inducing fear in nearly all of them, but to their surprise he had a bottle of champagne cradled in his arm and a genuine smile on his face. The champagne wasn't the only thing he came baring, but good news of a demo recording date as well. He didn't stay for very long, didn't even comment about the tore up state of the apartment, but instead congratulated them for their soon to be success, finally handing over the bottle and wishing them a happy new years before seeing his way out. It wasn't even so much of the door being shut for them to crack open the bottle and take swigs from it straight from the neck, save for Toki. It didn't take but for a few minutes for the bottle to end up empty, and Pickles to retrieve a "special occasion" bottle from his room, twisting off the top and proposing a toast to the future of the band, all too excited to stop their cheering. They passed the bottle around, all of them taking swigs of what tasted like a strong whiskey, finally landing in Toki's hands. It took a little convincing from the rest of them to get him to take a drink from it, threatening him that it was bad luck for the band if he didn't; Toki asking if it was sweet shortly before putting his lips to it, and finding it was sadly all burn,no sweet, his face twisted up in a sour expression before getting it out of his hands as quickly as possible. Surely enough though, even that single cautious sip was enough to send Toki into a tipsy state with the rest of them, who were so busy celebrating that they missed the countdown of the new year completely. Skwisgaar was the only one who noticed Toki seated inches away from the television screen 10 seconds to midnight, a smile on his lips, Skwisgaar forcing his want to do something to them out of his mind,and instead putting his own lips back against the spout of the bottle.

Keeping this memory in his mind as he searched through the candy completely distracted him from Murderface who was swiftly approaching behind him, snapping around when he jammed the cart right into Skwisgaar leg.

"You asschole! She had a fucking tascher!"

All Skwisgaar could do is laugh at this,loudly, selecting a single candy and throwing it into their basket, Murderface questioning it and Skwisgaar only able to come up with the excuse that he had the munchies.

They went to the check out and put the items on the conveyor belt: ramen noodles in styrofoam cups, microwaveable mac-n-cheeses, a box of popcorn, a case of bottled water, thirty-two pack of cheap ass beer, and material for making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which Skwisgaar picked up himself since the thought of eating artificial noodles made him cringe, unless it was his only option which, of course, was _too_ often. The last item he set down was the bag of candy. Murderface had to pull out his i.d. for the beer, Skwisgaar too distracted to notice the female cashier,who was far past her prime, making eyes at him. It was only brought up after they paid and were carrying the bags to the truck, that Murderface asked him how he _does _it, in bafflement to how he attracted so many women without even the lift of a finger, Skwisgaar saying that it's probably not everyday they get to meet a Swedish god.

They laughed about it as they climbed back into the truck, Skwisgaar resting his boots back on the dash, smoking a cigarette on the way home listening to Murderface try to howl along to Black Sabbath, Skwisgaar cranking it up only in hopes of drowning Murderface's lisp out.

Back up at the apartment, they found it empty. Skwisgaar assumed Nathan and Pickles must have taken Toki back down to the laundromat down the street, and were probably showing him for the third time was settings to put the washer on. Luckily, Nathan and Pickles seemed to have a fair amount of patience with Toki, the only one who remained unmoved by his presence altogether being Murderface, but Skwisgaar decided that only women and violence generally got him interested, Toki being a form of neither. Putting the food away didn't take but a minute or two, Skwisgaar tucking the candy into his jean pocket; Murderface didn't hesitate to open up a package of the mac-n-cheese and shove it into the microwave.

"I ams going to be in my rooms,now," shutting the fridge door after cramming all the beers in, making his way down the hall.

"'Kay," Murderface mumbled, leaning his face down to watch his food rotating in the microwave.

He shut the bedroom door behind him, wishing it had a lock. Skwisgaar went over to his hamper and took his shirt off, tossing it in. He felt too grimy in it especially after practice, and plus the sleeves couldn't get in the way now. He got the stuff out his bedside drawers, tying his arm off with bandage wrap, never quite liking the slow of his pulse as it struggled to pass blood through to the other side. He repeated the steps he knew all too well and could probably perform with his eyes closed: first cooking the dope with the lighter under the spoon, _next the cotton, _fresh needle in the syringe, taking too much of it's time being drawn into it, his hands almost shaking in anticipation. He examined his forearm, the crook of his elbow. He wanted to find the perfect vein, but realised there wasn't much of them left, most of them purpling under the overuse of them as of late; he had to settle on the one that looked _most_ healthy. He eased the tip of the needle past his skin, too used to it to feel it's prick. He pulled the plunger up, watching thankfully his blood slowly make it's way up into the base of the syringe, diluting the contents into a faint pink tint, he loved getting it right the first time. He held his breath as he pushed the plunger down, emptying it agonizingly slow out into his vein. Retracting the needle from his arm, he finally exhaled, throwing it on top of the drawers and untying his arm quickly.

Within a few seconds, Skwisgaar was being pulled under again, chest heavy, the smack quickly pumping through each of his limbs. He fell back against the bed, eyes rolling back into whites, teeth drawing blood from his bottom lip. He felt each muscle tense harder than it had during any of the times he came in all his life, his feet restrained in his boots and he fleetingly wishing he would have remembered to take them off this time. He felt the sensation rush to his belly, and before his mind could comprehend, his body was stumbling off the bed and over to the waste basket. His eyes shut tight, his body heaving and curling over the trash on all fours. He knew he was puking but couldn't quite make himself regain control. He was choking, fingers tearing into his palms, tears forcing their way out of the corners of his eyes as if there was no room left in his body to contain them.

Eyes still shut tight he frantically felt his way around the floor, feeling ,_knowing _he didn't have much longer until it took him completely. His fingers numb to the textures, mind trying to comprehend his direction, but his will finally pulling himself back on top of what he knew could only be his bed, finally exhausted from the struggle, collapsing face down in the sheets, his thoughts already given out to silence.

It was darkness for what felt like years and years, and only that. The ache of his body greeted him all too strongly as heavy knocks on the door pulled him conscious.

"Ja! What ams you fucking wantings?"

He could hear his voice, croaky and hoarse, vocal chords sore. He felt himself getting pissed, knowing he was interrupted from something that he would most likely be unable to return to.

"Hey. You wanna go to the bar with us?"

It was a deep, mellow voice that echoed back at him on the other side of the wall, something that felt very familiar but his mind refused to make the connection, his body still in slumber.

" 'ts fucksings- nej!"

Groaning, he stirred on his bed sheets, begging to find a comfortable position. The voice did not answer to him, which he was thankful for because without much effort he sank back into dimness.

He dreamt now, something that happened close to never. It began in darkness, so dark he hadn't realized he was dreaming yet. Slowly a warm,soft light illuminated the corners of his mind, leaking into the black and taking it over, but instead of conquering the darkness, it was nearly coaxing it into light, turning in on itself. He felt his chest begin to warm, almost like he was exposing it to the sun. Then, there was only light, as if the sun was not just on his chest but awaiting him on the other side of his lids. The light then began to flicker, and flickers gave into throbs, throbbing that was so strong he felt it throughout felt himself being pulled up rather abruptly, quickly, the throbbing quicker and _quicker…_

His eyelids through open to absolute darkness, staring up at where his ceiling was supposed to be. He found his hand shoved down the front of jeans, fisting his own erection in the palm of his hand quickly. The sudden realization of this made which him shoot his back off the bed and upright, yanking his hand out quickly. Everything felt very odd and surreal, as if he had gotten lost somewhere in another dimension that was slightly off from the one he normally occupied. He blinked a few times, his eyes now beginning to give way to the soft blue cast of night in his bedroom. How long had he been out for? This was always his least favorite part of the trip, the return to reality with no idea of what had happened when you were out.

The intense warmth he had felt only moments ago had now given way to the chill of his room, his skin crawling. He weakly leaned over his bed, picking up the lighter from the top of his bed and lighting the candle on top of his drawers, swathing the light in a flickering,hushed light. He felt exhausted from the slightest movement, having to rest back on the bed. He breathed in , but was only met with the off smell of his room. He scowled when he realized the mess he had made in his room earlier, which felt like days ago.

He got himself off of the bed and got to work, disposing the syringe on top of the drawers back into the drawer, pulling the needle out and bringing with him over to the waste basket. He approached it cautiously, weary of the foulness that awaited him on the inside. To his luck, he hadn't missed outside of it at all, which was sometimes a harsh reality. He dropped the needle into the mess and gathered the edges of the plastic trash bag, avoiding touching the inside and tied it off. He went back of to the small set of drawers and pulled open the bottom one, pulling out a small spray can. He went around his room, misting the pleasant smell throughout the air and on the top sheet of his bed after smoothing it back out. He returned it to it's place in the drawer when he deemed his room repaired, taking his time as he made his way to the closet. He pulled out a flannel shirt and slipped his arms into it. As of lately, it had become extremely important to keep his forearms covered to keep the track marks hidden from the rest of his band mates, even though he was pretty sure none of them would even be bothered by it, he decided maybe this could be his little secret, it was better off that way. He barely bothered with buttoning it up, only fastening the first few bottom buttons, arms far too weak to continue for the time being.

He slipped off his boots and placed them in his closet, the arches of his feet thankful. He grabbed the garbage back out of the waste basket and headed out of his room, closing the door behind him. It was even colder in the apartment then it was in his bedroom, which made him want to do nothing more than go back in his room and crawl under the sheets. He could spend a night doing nothing right? As if right on cue, a small peep of a voice called out from the opposite side of the hall.

"Um,hei, Skwisgaar?"

Toki was peeking out from behind the far wall, features close to expressionless except for a faint trace of a smile that reached his eyes. Skwisgaar suddenly felt very unprepared and wished to not be holding a bag of his throw up at this very moment, but had nowhere to turn, so started to make his way where he first intended to, which was in the direction of where Toki stood.

"Ja," wishing his voice wouldn't have came out so stern.

"Vel, I's wonderin's," Toki started emerging out from behind the wall, resting himself up against the corner of it, " Nathans says you coulds be ams helpings me prasckiss…"

"Uh..," Skwisgaar was now standing only a foot or two in front of him, able to make out the nervous coloring raising across the bridge of Toki''s nose and spreading to the tops of his cheeks,"Ams everyones else at de bar?"

"Yeps."

"Ja, okays, Tokis. I ams helping yous practicks, just be lettings me take dis outs to the trash."

"I's cans take it's for you."

Toki offered a friendly smile up at him, Skwisgaar only being taken off guard by his words. Had Toki just offered to do one of his chores for him? Skwisgaar hadn't really ever had someone offer to do something like this for him before. He assumed people let him do things on his own because they sensed he knew he could do a better job himself, but for a split second he almost found himself fond of the thought. Was Toki wanting to take care of him? _No, _he was reading too far into this.

"It's fines, I ams being ables to."

"Let Toki do's it, " hand reaching forward, actually _approaching_ Skwisgaar, taking the bag from his now-powerless fingers.

"Toki-"

"You amnst gots shoes on, yous feets ams _fryse_," Toki called over his shoulder, as he made his way out the front door, a small bounce in his step.

What had just happened? Skwisgaar leaned himself against the wall, the same spot Toki had himself rested against second ago, feeling his warmth still left on the wall against his own shoulder, even through the flannel. He let himself smile for a small moment, then losing all of it when he realised that his band mate was carrying a bag of his mess all the way down to the trash outside in a stupid smiley face shirt just because he was worried about Skwisgaar's feet getting cold; he had to still be asleep, twisted out on the top of his bed, face shoved into the mattress, _right? _The was no way Toki could be outside right now disposing of the aftermath of his secret habit.

Skwisgaar was still in disbelief of this long after Toki came back into the apartment, cheeks flushed from the cold and even as he began going over the chords with him. Both their guitar plugged in the amplifier, ignoring the time of night, they played together; Skwisgaar noticing how the sounds of their playing synchronized together just like it had the day of the try outs, which seemed like it happened longer ago than just a little over a month. His ear tuned into the slight twinge of the strings coming from Toki's guitar, not seeming to pay them any mind as he pushed himself further into the rhythm of a song called Blood Puke, fingers fleeting from one note to the next. It was one of the songs Toki struggled to play, even though he still played it well.

Skwisgaar had stopped Toki to go over the finger placement of the song, being interrupted by his cellphone blaring it's stock ringtone. He shot Toki an almost apologetic look as he flipped it open and brought it up to his ear.

"Ja, this ams Skwisgaar."

"I know, kid," light laughter on the other side of the line, "you comin' down to play tonight?"

"Sons of bitches...sorry, I forgots all about it," he turned away from Toki, plugging his other ear with his finger, even though the apartment was silent," I'ms kind of with someone importants right now, ams needs rain of check."

More laughter,"It's cool. Someone _important_? Sorry for interruptin' your night."

Click.

Someone..._important? What was that? _That couldn't of come out of his mouth, could it? He tensed as he gingerly shut his cellphone, tucking it back into his pocket. He turned around, rubbing his neck and hoping Toki hadn't caught on to his conversation. Why had he even said that? He felt like he had just admitted something to himself that he wasn't ready to deal with. Feeling his face grow a little too warm, he glanced up at Toki, who was still practicing the placement of his fingers on the fret, smiling behind his disheveled hair.

Skwisgaar decided maybe it was time for a break, _definitely _time for a break. He announced this to Toki who remained practicing, as he made his way over to the fridge. He retrieved his plastic sack of bread and two tubs from it, then began digging around the cabinets for a knife, which took a little longer then it should have, but he couldn't make himself mind the distraction. As he finished spreading the pink jam on the other slice of bread, he called back to Toki over his shoulder.

"You ams hungry?"

"Ja."

Skwisgaar closed the sandwich together , taking the knife and made five clean cuts on it: one for each side of the sandwich , severing the crust from it, and one long cut diagonally through it, splitting it in two pieces.

He padded back over to Toki, presenting him with one of the halves, which he took from Skwisgaar and examined it for a second, then smiling up at him.

"Takks."

They sat together on the couch that the amplifiers crowded, him on the arm of it, Toki squeezed in next to an amp. The ate in silence for the first few bites, then Skwisgaar picking up from where they were when they were interrupted with the phone call.

"You ams getting those notes?"

"Yeps…I wish I had what ams longer fingers though."

Skwisgaar cocked an eyebrow, searching his sandwich for the next bite,"What ams making you wish for dats?"

"For reaching the _akkorder _better," nodding to himself, " Like you's. You gots what long fingers, can reaches notes in a way that ams easier."

Skwisgaar smirked a little at this, waiting to finish chewing his bite before answering," What ams you talkings about, Tokis? You's fingers am thin. Thats ams goods for playsking."

Skwisgaar watched Toki's brow furrow, a puzzled look twisting at his features,"But nots long."

"Well,Tokis," Skwisgaar sighed, pausing between his next bite,"I thinks you plays fine with whats you haves."

And then they didn't say anything for a long while, finishing up their half of the sandwich but making no effort to move.

"Whys you plays metal?" Toki shifting in his seat slightly to face more towards Skwisgaar.

"Shoulds be asking you dats," pulling his carton of cigarettes out and lighting one up,sending one of his classic smirks Toki's way.

"Wells…" he trailed off, eyes going distant before he came back, voice quieter than before,"Back homes, it wasn't alloweds. My parents says it ams evil. I think thats ams what mades me like it- nots because it was ams evil, but because it wasn'ts allowed. Remembers sneaking off to records stop whens on ærend,evens just listenings to it played in the stores. I justs couldn'ts believes somethings so..._vakker _could supposiblys be so evils."

The look on Skwisgaar's face must have made Toki realize he must have said too much , turning his head away and biting down on his lip. Skwisgaar only bringing his cigarette up to his lips to take another drag.

"Ams sorries."

"You don'ts need to be," Skwisgaar exhaled, smoke exiting along with the words," It amnst your faults religion is such dildos."

Toki look back at Skwisgaar now, puzzlement crossing his face once again," Hows did you...sos, you is beings an ateist…?"

"Nejs, ams nihilist."

"Ni..nikilists?"

"_Nihilist. _Meanings there amnst no gods? Amnst no religions? It's all dildos anyways, made up by idiots. There amnst no ways fors god, there ams only me and the rests of the dildos mankinds. And thats, littles Tokis, is whys I play metal. Because it's hows I feels. Thats, and because, wells, ams being too good at de guitars to plays anything else," smirking once more.

Nodding, Toki played with the hem of his shirt," I guess beings metal gots to come from the insides."

"Ja, Tokis, it does. That's whats makes Dethklok better den the rest of the dildos out there what claims dey am metals, they aints, because they don'ts haves it on the insides. That's why you needs to play as bests as you cans for the demos, plays as brutal as you cans, because it's whats going to seskaprates us from the rests."

"I amnst goings to lets you downs."

"Betters not, dildo," Skwisgaar let himself reach up and ruffle the top of Toki's hair," That's whys yous gunna prackiss it's ones more times. Ands you's gonna get it rights, or else you don'ts get what I gots you."

Toki's face lighted up," You gots Tokis somethings?"

"Ja. But likes I said, if you don'ts gets it right, no preskents," he got up and put his cigarette out in the tray, " It ams being ups to you."

By the time Skwisgaar was heading back over, Toki already had his pathetic guitar slung over his torso, determination furrowing his brows once more. Skwisgaar resumed his position on the arm of the couch and kicked back, signalling for Toki to begin. Toki soared through the notes he knew well, playing them with even more precision than before, and playing harder than he had ever heard. By the time Toki got to the chords he struggled with, beads of sweat were already forming at his hairline, swinging his hair out of his eyes as he slammed through them, ignoring any problems he usually had. It was actually as visually stunning as it was to hear,leaving Skwisgaar's mind floored.

When it was over, Toki flipped his hair back once more,his chest heaving as he panted for hair. His t-shirt was damp with sweat for the second time today and probably begged to be washed, Toki only able to raise his eyes up to Skwisgaar in question.

"When we were shoppings todays, I remembers you saying somethings about sweets," Skwisgaar said now on his feet, and digging into his pocket,retrieving the baggy and handing it over to Toki,glad it hadn't been smashed," I saw it and you knows, thoughts you mights like it."

"Oh, wowees!" Toki beamed as he looked at the wrapper, then up at Skwisgaar.

Skwisgaar couldn't help but smile himself as he started down the hall, feeling like he needed a bath and a shave.

"Hei, Skwisgaar?"

Skwisgaar looked back over his shoulder, hand on the door knob of the bathroom already.

"Whens I was gettings my clothes to wash todays, founds a blankets...I didn'ts even know that ams beens using it. I didn'ts knows whos it cames from, Nathans and Pickle says it looks like it ams yours...you wants it back?"

Skwisgaar waited a moment before turning a little more to look back at Toki, raising an eyebrow," You ams likes it?"

"Yeps."

"Thens," smirking," it ams yours."

He twisted the handle and let himself into the bathroom. He leaned himself back against the door and looked up at the bathroom ceiling, the motion sensor lighting clicking on and exposing the bathroom in fluorescent light. The ceiling was cracked and paint peeled from the plastered walls, looking as beaten up as Skwisgaar felt, nothing a 7 minute shower of momentary hot water couldn't fix. In the shower, he closed his eyes and relaxed his cheek against the icy tile wall, letting the unsteady stream of warmth trickle down his shoulders, feeling too worn out to do much else.

Upon moving in he has wised up about the lack of hot water within his first few experiences and took no haste in removing himself from the shower with 30 seconds to spare before the temperature would have gone haywire. He patted himself down with a not-so-soft bath towel, not bothering to wrap it around his waist as he leaned over the counter and into the mirror. Wiping the fog from it, he examined his reflection; lips split open and sure enough, peaks of blonde stubble were already forming on his jaw line and chin, which he rid of with the razor he withdrew from the drawer. He could hear the other three stumbling drunkenly in through the apartment door, cheering and shoes squeaking on the tile floor, the momentary distraction causing him to nick his jaw with the blade. After that he worked on combing out his hair and rolled on some deodorant, a swish of mouth wash for the road. Skwisgaar never saw any reason to skimp on anything, especially good hygiene.

He kicked his damp towel and clothes into the corner of the floor and paid no mind to walking out of the bathroom in the nude, only uncomfortable from the chill that crept in as soon as he pushed the door open.

"Schit! Can you not be scho fucking gay!"

Skwisgaar turned to the main room, Murderface scowling at him from it. He could barely contain his snickering as he walked over to the band's set, naked as he came, fetching his guitar off it's stand.

Raising an eyebrow to Murderface ,who was groaning and dramatically covering his eyes, he shrugged his shoulder," You ams the one that ams lookings."

"Yeah, Murderface thats...thats pretty gay!" Nathan smiling evilly, Pickles throwing his head back with howls of laughter.

The laughter grew as Murderface attempted to find a come back in his inebriated state, but could only come up with," He's the one with his dick out!"

"Stahp thinking about his dick, yer' boners showing," Pickles choking out between his laughter, as Skwisgaar retreated back into his bedroom.

His room smelled heavily of melted candle wax now, a scent that greeted him as soon as he was inside. He shivered as a few trickles of water dripped off his hair and down his spine to the dip of his back, setting the guitar on top of his bed and going over to his closet. When he walked back to his guitar he donned a dark pair of drawstring sweatpants and a hoodie, which he didn't bother zipping up, silently cursing at himself for not being more careful, realizing his act of public nudity could have risked the rest of the band seeing the track marks that mapped out his forearms.

He was unaware of how long he played the guitar for that night, aimlessly going through the same sweeps over and over until it came as a second nature to him. He must had played it for over a few good hours though, because the apartment had seemed to settle down, growing quieter as the signs of early morning began to illuminate through the slits in Skwisgaar's blinds.

He in the next very minutes was wandering his way out of his room and down the hall for a beer, the apartment now looking far less intimidating and much more humble with the glowing red lights off, only the first gleams of the day washed over the room, Murderface's snore echoing through the archway. At the end of the hallway though, his ears were met with a different sound, something he didn't think he had ever heard before. He stopped and waited, and surely enough it came again from the left side of the wall, surely enough from Toki's nook. It slowed his pace, the closer he came to it, the more clearer it became, but he was still unable to identify what was making it.

He slid himself against the wall as he came to the corner, unsure why he was even sneaking around but settled for it being vital thing to do. As he peeked over, he didn't know if what he saw was something he detested, or if it was a _blessing._

The luster of such early hours casted on the dark sheet separating Toki's space from the rest of the apartment had gone sheer, exposing what wasn't meant for being seen. Toki was resting on his knees, his back arching against the wall. His face was hidden into none other than the blanket he had offered back to Skwisgaar hour's ago,gripping on to it with one hand and the other one was at work between his thighs. From what could be made out, he hadn't even undressed all the way, still in the same t-shirt and a pair of briefs, but Toki's hand seemed all too determined as Skwisgaar watched him palm over the inside of his thighs and the area right in between…

The sound came again, and Skwisgaar realized it was nothing more than Toki's flighty moans being muffled it was much more than that, _so much more._

He hadn't even realised he had made himself completely visible now, no longer hiding behind the wall, giving into his curiosity which forced him to get closer, if even by a little, just so he could _see_ just what he was doing,just _where_ that hand was going. He put a palm up against the wall to keep him steady as his arousal stormed through him, which he couldn't even begin to question, not now.

Toki continued caressing and grabbing at himself, thoroughly toying with himself underneath that idiot t-shirt, apparently having no real skill nor goal set; his hand eventually slowed and held on to the blanket just as tightly as the other one, face sinking even further into it as his shoulders curled forward,shaking, just as they did when someone cried.

Skwisgaar wasting no time to flee from the scene, not caring if his footsteps were heard, not even caring about the beer he set out for in the first place anymore. Instead he threw himself into his room and flung himself on the bed, wasting no time fooling around. He tugged down the waistband of his sweats, and rubbed at his hips, bucking them upwards as his mind pleaded in his cock's place for attention,already leaking pearlescent streaks of pre-cum out on his lower stomach. He gave into himself, eyes shut tight, as his mind gave into the thought of having someone he kept trying to convince himself all this time he couldn't possibly want. As he rode out his orgasm, he couldn't help finally admitting to himself that yes,this was something he wanted, _never wanting anything more badly in his life._


End file.
